FEATURE: Groovelines: Kylie Minogue – The Loco-Motion

FEATURE:

 

 

Groovelines

Kylie Minogue – The Loco-Motion

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THIS song…

takes me back to my childhood. There is a lot to celebrate about Kylie Minogue this year. She has recently performed in the U.K. and completed a residency in Las Vegas. Her latest album, TENSION, was released last year to huge critical acclaim. Her second studio album, Enjoy Yourself, turns thirty-five in October. The Kylie Minogue album turns thirty in September. Rather than mark a big anniversary, instead I want to go back to the start. Mark the approaching thirty-sixth anniversary of her debut single, The Loco-Motion. It is a cover version, though Kylie Minogue very much adds her own take on the song. A number one in many countries in the world, it reached number two in the U.K., three in the U.S. and it was a chart-topper in Minogue’s native Australia. At only twenty, this was an exciting first step for Minogue. The lead single from 1988’s Kylie, I wanted to spend some time with a hugely important release in the history of Pop music. I was four when the single came out. I dimly remember The Loco-Motion. I first heard it when I was five or six. Maybe my introduction to Kylie Minogue, I then heard other hits like Hand on Your Heart and Better the Devil You know. The Loco-Motion has a special place in my heart. Before moving on, here is some Wikipedia information about a terrific debut single from the icon:

“Background

Australian pop singer Kylie Minogue released a cover version of the song in July 1987 as her debut single, under the title "Locomotion". After an impromptu performance of the song at an Australian rules football charity event with the cast of the Australian soap opera Neighbours, Minogue signed a record deal with Mushroom Records to release the song as a single. Initially recorded in a big band style, the project was radically reoriented by producer Mike Duffy, who was on loan to Mushroom from Pete Waterman's UK company PWL. Duffy recorded a whole new backing track, inspired by the hi-NRG pop of Dead or Alive, but retained Minogue's original vocal.This version was released on July 13, 1987, in Australia, where it became one of the biggest selling Australian records of the 1980s. It was later released the same year in New Zealand, Italy, and Sweden.

The success of the song in her home country resulted in Minogue's signing a record deal with PWL Records in London and to working with the successful team Stock Aitken & Waterman (SAW). The producers decided to totally re-record Minogue's version of the song, with Pete Waterman slating her original Australian recording, which he claimed was poorly produced. Original producer Mike Duffy instead blamed the decision to re-record on Waterman's alleged wish to claim the prestige and royalties that looked set to roll in from the track's looming placement of the soundtrack of the 1988 film Arthur 2: On the Rocks, starring Dudley Moore and Liza Minnelli. On July 28, 1988, the re-recorded version produced by SAW was released worldwide with the title "The Loco-Motion". This release, also a major success, reached the top five in Canada, the United Kingdom, and the United States. This version of the track substitutes the Australian term railway for the American term railroad in the song's lyrics.

Reception

The 1987 "Locomotion" release was a huge hit in Minogue's native Australia, reaching number one on the Kent Music Report singles chart and remaining there for seven weeks. The 1988 release of the song in the United Kingdom debuted and peaked at number two on the UK Singles Chart — the highest entry on the UK charts by a female artist. It remained in the number two position for four weeks before falling to number three. With sales of 440,000 it was the eleventh best selling single of the year. The song became Minogue's third top five single in the UK and remains one of her most successful single releases to date.

During late 1988, Minogue traveled to the United States to promote "The Loco-Motion", where she did many interviews and performances on American television. The song was used in the comedy film Arthur 2: On the Rocks. "The Loco-Motion" debuted at number 80 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 and later peaked at number three for two weeks. The song was Minogue's second single to chart in the U.S., but her first to reach the top ten. To this day, the song remains as her highest-charting single in the United States; however, her second overall and most recent song to reach the top ten, 2002's "Can't Get You Out of My Head", ended up outselling "The Loco-Motion". In Canada, the song also reached the top five in the pop sales chart. In 2023, Robert Moran of Australian daily tabloid newspaper The Sydney Morning Herald ranked the song as Minogue's 17th best song (out of 183), describing it "a surprisingly gritty sex track built on chugging synths and girl-group harmonies”.

There is something nostalgic and exciting about The Loco-Motion. Originally released on 13th July, 1987, it was the re-released version (with a slightly amended title) from 28th July, 1988, produced by Stock Aitken Waterman, that became a worldwide smash. There is no denying that the production is dated. It is very much part of that factory rotation sound of the 1980s. Even so, it is a really important song that launched Kylie Minogue to the world. Some may see The Loco-Motion as overly-happy or grating. If you play it enough times. It is defiant and hypnotic. A song that probably resonates harder for those who remember it first time. People approaching it new now might not be able to relate or see how important it is. As it is a landmark release and the start of the story for the brilliant Kylie Minogue, it is a shame more has not been written about it. It is a shame. Ahead of its thirty-sixth anniversary, I wanted to spend some time with it. I wonder how Kylie Minogue sees the song now. Because it turned thirty-seven (the original release) last Sunday, it is no surprise Minogue performed the song when she was in London. It means a lot to her. Still playing those early tracks. It is rare for an artist with decades of experience to keep in her those initial singles.

Credit to Minogue that she has this fondness for the earliest years. I want to end with a feature that is both affectionate and slightly tongue-in-cheek about The Loco-Motion. Whether you hyphenate the song or not, there is no denying its infectiousness! This feature was written in 2018. I was keen to highlight a few segments from it:

“Last summer was the height of this song’s popularity — for me, personally. I don’t think it has “topped the charts” for well over a decade. It was my first summer living in Los Angeles. I had moved right before the election, in October of 2016. In my mind “the election” is always this one, and there is a distinct “before” and “after” period. I do not feel equipped to summarize what Los Angeles is or is not, its character or landscape, and I want to avoid debunking any misconceptions about either, but I do know that when I moved here, it felt like a promise of better days ahead. And it was mostly due to

the palm trees. For months after moving here I laughed out loud every single time I saw a palm tree. Even better when there was a short one next to a tall one. The jokes — they write themselves.

Whether it was my natural proclivity to personify inanimate objects or a desperate need to laugh in the face of absolute bleakness, after the election I found myself seeking out symbols of pure, simple joy. I became obsessed with smiley faces. I watched endless hours of cartoons. I earnestly googled “adult mobile,” thinking it would be nice to have one circling over my bed. Now that I write it all down, I guess you could say I was regressing.

Any place can feel like a small town if you live there long enough. I lived in Northern California my entire life. When people asked me why I moved, the truthful answer is that I just didn’t want anyone to know me anymore. Here is a metaphor: the Bay Area is like a church organ. Everyone is connected, part of the same machine making the same sound. Also, they are charitable and community-oriented. After a while, though, you get sick of the low, droning, organ sounds, and you think that maybe you could pick up a new instrument. Although I did say I was not equipped to make any statements about LA, I am wildly confident in my metaphor-making. If the Bay Area is an organ, then Los Angeles is an orchestra. There is a distinction between string people and wind instruments and the percussion section, but everyone wants to be the conductor.

I have a habit that my therapist calls “letting my moods rule my behavior,” instead of the emotionally healthy alternative, which is to gesture to your behaviors and say, “oh no, after you!” What you’re supposed to do, you see, is go to the gym when you don’t feel like it, see friends when you’d rather be alone, eat a full meal instead of chewing on a piece of gum in the hopes that your headache just goes away. On the Wikipedia page for “Loco-Motion” (the original song), there is a subcategory called “The Loco-Motion Myth.” A total sucker for conspiracies and popular untruths, I scrolled down to find that the dance came after the song, and not the other way around. Whether this has anything to do with what my therapist told me or not, I decide that it definitely, absolutely does, and I decide this with such a certainty that I find it almost pre-ordained, a divine folly in the greater universe of myths. The Locomotion I am sure now, is exactly, precisely, what I have been needing. And so I listen to it, on repeat, for days. I am trying to exorcise myself. Rid myself of dread, fear, and the occasional bout of spontaneous, uncontrollable crying.

The other day I walked past an ice cream truck. That particular jingle has a morbid quality to it, too. No matter the melody, its sound always has the effect of slowly being beat down by the heat, of a record being warped, tangled tape prolapsed out of cassettes. The music shuts off, the driver leans his head onto the steering wheel, and no kids come. I think to buy one, but I never carry cash.

The Locomotion, in contrast, has the auditory quality of revival, of hope, of newness, of Kylie Minogue, hero of the gays and cancer survivor, of staying alive, even when it seems so easy to just snap”.

It is wonderful that Kylie Minogue played The Loco-Motion a couple of days ago. She is proud of the song and what it achieved. It means a lot to me too. In the U.K., nearly thirty-six years ago, we were introduced to this incredible and vivacious Pop artist. Little did we know that she would be dominating the charts and releasing music all these years later. If you have not heard the brilliant and undeniably catchy The Loco-Motion, then you really need to…

JUMP on board!

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Paul Epworth at Fifty: A Selection of Songs from the Legendary Producer and Songwriter

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

PHOTO CREDIT: Alex Waespi

Paul Epworth at Fifty: A Selection of Songs from the Legendary Producer and Songwriter

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ON 25th July…

IN THIS PHOTO: Among many other artists, Paul Epworth has produced for Bloc Party (pictured in 2004)

an incredible producer and songwriter turns fifty. You may not have heard of him, though I guarantee you have heard quite a few songs that he is credited on as a producer and/or songwriter. That person is Paul Epworth. I am going to end with a playlist featuring songs he has a credit on. Ahead of an important birthday, it is worth reflecting on how much great music this amazing talent has had a hand in. It is interesting, when we think about producers, how diverse their credits are. More than the artists they are associated with. Truly great producers are able to work with a variety of artists and add their own stamp on the music. That is the case here. Prior to getting to a mixtape of songs he has produced or had a writing credit on, AllMusic provide a detailed biography about the incredible and multi-talented Epworth:

“Multi-award-winning British producer Paul Epworth made his name helming albums for megastars like Adele and Rihanna before launching his own solo career in 2020 with his debut Voyager.

Born and raised in the leafy London commuter town of Bishop's Stortford, Epworth got his start in music in the early 2000s as frontman for the little-heard indie band Lomax. The group released one album, 2003's A Symbol of Modern Living, before disbanding. Epworth then began a solo remixing and production career. He released a couple of electronica singles under the names Phones and Epic Man, but it was his production work on a trio of zeitgeist-grabbing debut albums by Futureheads, Maxïmo Park, and Bloc Party that secured him immediate notice. As both producer and songwriter, Epworth went on to shape the sound of a diverse roster of stars including, most notably, Adele, Rihanna, and Florence + the Machine; later he would go on to work with Coldplay, U2, and Mumford & Sons, among many others. Epworth also made acclaimed remixes, often under the name Phones. In the course of his career, he won no fewer than five Grammy Awards, and a coveted Academy Award for the song "Skyfall," from the James Bond film.

In September 2020, Epworth released his debut solo album, Voyager. A high-concept effort combining Epworth's twin loves of classic sci-fi and '70s R&B, the album fused elements of funk, disco, spiritual jazz, and hip-hop, and featured a plethora of guest vocalists including Ishmael, Vince Staples, Ty Dolla $ign, Kool Keith, and Jay Electronica”.

Such a distinct and legendary producer, Paul Epworth has helped elevate songs to new levels with an incredible Midas touch. I was keen to assemble a mixtape of his worth ahead of his fiftieth birthday on 25th July. This playlist just goes to show what a prolific and consistent talent…

THIS man is.

FEATURE: She is Heaven-Sent: How a Hollow and Problematic Feminist Mainstream Track Causes More Issues Than It Solves

FEATURE:

 

 

She is Heaven-Sent

IN THIS PHOTO: Katy Perry/PHOTO CREDIT; Jack Bridgland

How a Hollow and Problematic Feminist Mainstream Track Causes More Issues Than It Solves

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WE are living at a time…

when women’s rights and safety seem as exposed and threatened as at any other time. Their physical safety and lives endangered. Violence and misogyny is rising. Whether online or outside, how safe is it being a woman?! It is horrifying that we are seeing such male violence and abuse. On the other side of things, we should be celebrating the brilliance of women. Not only how we should be making them feel safe and protected in a violent world. Their rights, value and importance needs to come roaring through. How the modern world would be better if more women were in charge. A move from the patriarchy and the toxic evil of male violence and misogyny and a move to a matriarchy and a far safer world for women. I hate the world we live in. I fear for women. They are amazing people and yet, when you think about all the worst crimes, violence, offence and bad things in the world, the vast majority is perpetrated by men. The strength and humanity of women. Their humility, intelligence and beauty. We need to fight for equality through the world. There are artists, most of them women, writing incredible feminist anthems. Whether it is artists promulgating the power of women and their merits or others showing their defiance and anger against male violence, misogyny and sexualisation, we need more songs like this. We need more male artists actually putting women at the front. Writing their own feminist anthems. There is a wave of great sex-positive songs from women. Others that are about sisterhood, togetherness and recognition. In 2024, I feel women are as attacked, endangered and exposed as ever. So much violence and misogyny directed at them. The huge rise in male violence and Stone Age views. Feminist tracks not only that strike against the way women are treated, marginalised and abused. There are feminist tracks all about the way women are striking out and leading. The moral and intellectual leaders. Videos that are inventive, eye-catching and moving. If a video is quite sexual, it is through their control and gaze. Not a male lens that distorts their messages or distils and dilutes their meaning.

PHOTO CREDIT: Cynthia Parkhurst

Not that it is the only example, though it is a current one that muddies the water. WOMAN’S WORLD is not a Katy Perry ‘comeback’ single. She did not get lost in the wilderness: she started a family and took time off. It is her first single for a long time. Because of that, there are a lot more eyes and spotlight on the song than there would normally be. She has come back on the scene with a track that has created criticism. Vulture and Pitchfork have shared their views. I am going to come to a review of The Guardian. It is not so much about the quality of the singing or music. If this was a normal Pop song about love or anything else then there would not be such vituperative and negative reaction. What Perry has released is a so-called feminist anthem. I feel her intention was to celebrate women and say how the world is dominated and run by women. Admirable in spirit and theory, though the whole package is problematic and troubling. Not only is the song produced by Dr Luke – who has been accused of assault, coercive behaviour and sexual abuse -, its video puts me in mind of the horrendous visual for Eric Prydz’s Call on Me from 2004. At that time, there were a lot of sexualised versions of women. Videos where their bodies were used to sell singles. There was a difference between male artists using it to appeal to base instincts. Female artists like Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera showing body and sex-positivity. Liberating and confident videos that, today, may seem like exploitation and the demands of record labels. Using sex to sell. WOMAN’S WORLD has that rather uneasy and queasy essence of the early-2000s. For a song about sex or freedom, there would not be such a problem with Katy Perry putting out a video that takes us back twenty years. There are a lot of issues regarding Perry’s new song.

On a feminist song, one of the worst things is pairing it with a video that sends out the wrong message. It is almost like A.I. or men pitched the video. A song about how great it is being a woman and how they are in charge. Women acting like men and letting it hang loose. Showing curves. The video does, despite its better intentions, have this male gaze. It is what we would imagine if we wanted to highlight the worst traits of music videos from the 2000s. I am going to move on in a minute. However, I should get to some observations Laura Snapes made for The Guardian in her one-star review for WOMAN’S WORLD:

“Perry’s clubby missile of a new single, Woman’s World, had affirmed to me that yes, it is a woman’s world – and you’re lucky to be livin’ in it. In her woman’s world, women are nuanced, winners, smart, soft, pretty, prickly, fiery and shiny. As the video demonstrated, you could be a Rosie the Riveter type (but, like, hot) or a businesswoman or a big sexy bionic horse. Women can have it all! Thank god someone finally said it.

There was another strange sensation. That of being dragged back in time, possibly in some kind of cosmic wagon pulled by the scary bionic horse woman. Back to almost exactly a decade ago, to August 2014, when Beyoncé performed at the MTV Video Music awards in front of the word FEMINIST, emblazoned in big baby pink letters, and the whole world had to be passed its collective smelling salts at the pop-cultural notion that girls just wanted to have fundamental rights. Maybe a few years further back, even, to when the brash electro-pop of Lady Gaga stressed the importance of being exactly who you were. (Incidentally, Gaga’s biggest hit of 2014 was Do What U Want, with R Kelly, another winding reminder that we were ever so young.)

Woman’s World is Perry’s first solo single in three years: “the first contribution I have given since becoming a mother and since feeling really connected to my feminine divine,” the 39-year-old pop star said in a statement. Her last album, 2020’s Smile, was her first since her 2010 superstar breakout Teenage Dream not to hit No 1 in the UK or the US. She has made subsequent stints in Vegas. The sense, going into her seventh album era, is of a 2010s pop star now very much on the back foot – one compounded by pre-release visuals that seemed nakedly inspired by the warped futurism of next-gen stars Arca and Charli xcx. At least the imagery suggested some kind of attempt to embrace pop’s present; then the credits for her new album 143 were revealed, heavily featuring Perry’s old collaborator Dr Luke.

In 2014, Kesha sued Luke (real name Lukasz Gottwald) for sexual assault and battery, sexual harassment, gender violence and emotional abuse. Luke denied the claims and countersued for defamation, alleging that Kesha, her mother and management had fabricated the claims to escape the record contract she had signed with him. In 2016, a judge dismissed Kesha’s claims. Kesha had also accused Luke of raping Perry, which Perry and Luke denied, and in 2020 a judge ruled that those comments were defamatory. In 2023, Luke and Kesha settled his defamation claim.

No conviction has ever been brought against Luke, although he is perceived by many as a pariah within pop music, and any artist – such as Kim Petras – who works with him becomes subject to disparaging online commentary from pop fans and will be called upon to defend the choice. When the collaborators for 143 were announced, Kesha simply tweeted “lol” – widely assumed to be a reference to Luke’s involvement – and was later photographed in a T-shirt emblazoned with the same word. The actor Abigail Breslin also called out the news, and later said she received death threats for doing so. Much of the online commentary around Woman’s World underlines the disconnect between working with a producer who comes with such baggage to make a song about the strength of women.

  The video for Woman’s World suffers from a much more benign case of mixed messaging. It starts out as some sort of attempt at satire, with Perry dressed as Rosie the Riveter and gals in work gear recreating the famous Lunch Atop a Skyscraper photo. They pretend to flamboyantly wee in urinals, which are quickly swept away (with far less glamour than in George Michael’s canonical Outside video) to reveal the stripped-down gang chucking away wellness paraphernalia – including Perry winking as she hurls a can of her own seltzer brand – to dance in a circle waving sex toys at each other. Boobs are oiled and bedazzled in stars-and-stripes bikinis. Perry wields a bedazzled screwdriver. It is perhaps less the trenchant comment on how women are sold the tools of their own disempowerment that Perry presumably intended than a preview of the Makita power tools calendar 2025.

Muddled in with all this turbo cheesecakery are blatant grasps for gay standom. “She’s a sister and a mother,” Perry sings, winking at drag culture so hard you suspect she’d pop a hernia if her abs weren’t hard as armour. Later in the video, as bionic horse Katy strides through some sort of apocalyptic scene – having rebooted as a sexy equine cyborg after being crushed by an anvil – two men kiss in the windy maelstrom. This clumsy expansiveness stumbles in a later bit when Perry rides in a monster truck with a sparkly uterus hung from it, an inadvertently apt symbol of all the essentialist, pandering nonsense going on here.

Not to sound like one of those men (actually I’ll take Perry’s insistence that it’s my goddess-given right as a woman to be essentialist, OK!) but: this garbage has six writers. Granted, it is infernally catchy, but it is the Bic for Her of pop, the pink Yorkie for girls (get your lips around this!), a song that made me feel stupider every sorry time I listened to it”.

I am going to come to another review before rounding up. There are so many reasons why there needs to be an augmentation of any feminist song coming out that sends good messages and hits the mark. More activation from artists who should put women’s rights at the forefront. Whether highlighting male violence and how we need to fight against it and protect women, or songs that focus on the strength of women and how they are slaying, this is what mainstream artists should be doing. Putting videos out that match the lyrics. Rather than Katy Perry getting the tone right and creating a modern-day feminist anthem produced by a woman with a video that is as captivating and visually arresting as anything Beyoncé or Taylor Swift could put out, there is so much wrong with WOMAN’S WORLD. Consequence shared their opinions about perhaps the most divisive song of 2024:

“What’s so head-scratching about this set of visuals, which Perry never fully commits to as satire, is that this is not how feminism should ever feel. Perry told Apple Music2 that her decision to focus on this theme was because “this is the first contribution I have given since becoming a mother and since feeling really connected to my feminine divine.” Connecting with the feminine divine doesn’t mean co-opting traditionally masculine spaces; ideally, it means celebrating the unique joys of womanhood. Feminism isn’t about proving we can do everything men can do — these days, the road to empowering women shouldn’t be centering men at all. Plenty of women drink whiskey and know how to operate power tools, but that’s not even the core of the issue here. It’s that this is the most baseline, tip of the iceberg, generic attempt at feminism, and the result is Perry never actually saying anything of substance.

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A post shared by KATY PERRY (@katyperry)

Everything about the focus of the track feels 15 years too late to be interesting, and the music video doesn’t help. There’s obviously something to be said for escapist pop or harkening back to the sounds that dominated charts through the early 2000s, but “Woman’s World” is a nothing burger served on a chrome plate. Take out any of the fun arena energy of “Roar” and you’ve got this chorus: “Celebrate! ‘Cause, baby, we ain’t goin’ away/ It’s a woman’s world and you’re lucky to be livin’ in it.” Doesn’t the visual of jade rollers on Perry’s face make you feel lucky to be alive? This isn’t camp; this is boring.

In a world where very few structural or institutional systems make us feel like we’re strutting sexily through a “Woman’s World,” no part of me wants to turn up the volume on this one. The timing is bad, and so is the song. This reality might be something Perry tries to touch on in the muddled second half of the video, when an anvil crushes her and turns her into a reanimated, inflated version of herself that wields the gender symbol for woman in the form of an influencer’s ring light — and, bafflingly, linking up with YouTuber Trisha Paytas”.

It is a shame that male artists are not writing about women. Putting their merits and safety at the front of their tracks. It is such a harrowing and horrible time where we need to support women and ensure that male violence is ended. Also, there has never been a better time to say outright how this world could charge very much for the better with women on top. How women should be celebrated and given greater rights and equality. Some mainstream artists are writing important and brilliant feminist tracks. It is a shame that there are those like WOMAN’S WORLD that are sort of undermining them. Getting the wrong sort of attention. I do hope that something good might be able to come from the backlash against WOMAN’S WORLD. Throughout the years, there have been examples of songs that discuss a woman’s world. The realities of being a woman. These are the type of songs that we need to hear…

IN the modern age.

FEATURE: Guilty Conscience: A Lack of Bite and Innovation from Male Artists in Hip-Hop at a Crucial Time

FEATURE:

 

 

Guilty Conscience

A Lack of Bite and Innovation from Male Artists in Hip-Hop at a Crucial Time

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ONCE was the time when…

PHOTO CREDIT: Maurício Mascaro/Pexels

Rap and Hip-Hop was at the absolute forefront of music. The most important and potent words being spoken by anyone. I would say that, from the 1980s through to the early-2000s, there was no denying how essential and important Hip-Hop was. At times of political division, warfare, social upheaval and racism, Hip-Hop’s best stood up and poured out their poetry. Lines, sounds, samples and vocals that hit hard and cut deep. Timeless songs that still hold weight and reliability to the day. I am thinking about artists such as Public Enemy, N.W.A., Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill and Jay-Z. Even more modern artists like Little Simz and Kendrick Lamar have managed to carry on that legacy. That said, Lamar’s reputation and standings has been tarnished what with his continued beef with Drake. Not to say that Hip-Hop has lost its potency and quality, though you can say that there is a big problem. Apart from queens of the genre and a few of the male artists making it captivating and cutting, there is very little beyond that. Such a pale version of what it used to be. I guess popular tastes shifting to Pop means that Hip-Hop is more in the shadows. Not this wave of groups like you used to have right throguhout the 1980s and 1990s. I think there are some incredible women in Hip-Hop adding something very special. Think about a lot of the male artists and how truly ineffective they are. I am thinking about Eminem’s new album, The Death of Slim Shady (Coup de Grâce). He is still a rapper whose flow, lyrics and delivery is better than anyone around. Undeniably brilliant when it comes to wordplay, this is someone whose genius cannot be dented. Back in 2000, when his third studio album, The Marshall Mathers LP, was released, he was being heralded as one of the finest rappers of his generation. A work of brilliance. There was controversy when it came to his subject matter. Constant homophobia, misogyny and threats of violence against women (and gay men), you had to wonder whether he was squandering his gifts by hiding behind this vulgar and offensive alter ego.

His new album is out. I am glad that we do not have to encounter quite the same kind of horrible, homophobic and misogynistic lyrics he spewed back in the late-1990s and early-2000s - though there is still some of that in various songs on his new album. What you could rely on is the sort of bite and anger that he delivered. There is anger in Hip-Hop at the moment, though so much of it is through obnoxious beefs. Think about the great Hip-Hop albums of the past decade, and there are few comparison to the classics of the golden age of Hip-Hop. That period from the 1980s right through the 1990s when there was this wave of cutting and essential Hip-Hop. Artists can make an impact and reign as powerfully and prominently as their peers. I think artists like Eminem rely on being offensive. At a time when there is more consciousness and care when it comes to what we say and how we interact with various groups of people, many have lost their edge and purpose. Relying on that shock value, rather than doing anything purposeful with their skill, anger and passion. As The Guardian writes, this seems to be the case with Eminem:

“It’s so single-minded in its recreation of the Eminem of the early 00s that it occasionally seems weirdly anachronistic. There is the occasional barb thrown the way of “woke” culture, but far more lines that use the long-superseded term “political correctness”. There are references to Eminem’s addictions, despite the fact that he’s been clean and sober for 16 years. There’s an entire song devoted to mocking Christopher Reeve, who died 20 years ago: it turns out the track was actually written for 2004’s Encore, but pulled after the actor’s passing. There are tapes of Eminem’s daughter Hailie, now a 28-year-old married woman, but in the context of the recordings here, still a small child, as she was on 2002’s My Dad’s Gone Crazy. There is an interlude that suggests the album will be greeted with protests so furious they spill over into riots, which it’s hard to listen to without thinking: yeah, he wishes.

The days when Eminem could provoke that kind of angry response feel long gone, as evidenced by the reaction to Houdini. Some people online made a half-hearted attempt to summon up outrage over its line mocking the incident in which Tory Lanez shot Megan Thee Stallion, but nobody really bit, perhaps because there were more diverting things happening in hip-hop. Where does a sick gag about Megan’s shooting sit next to Kendrick Lamar claiming US No 1 with a track that claims Drake is a paedophile? Complaining about Eminem making sick gags feels a bit like complaining that the toilet paper aisle of the supermarket contains too much bog roll.

Clearly that fact hasn’t escaped Eminem, who nevertheless goes all-out to cause offence. There are jokes about people with disabilities, about rape, about the sexual misconduct allegations made against rapper/mogul Diddy, about overweight people and finding trans women unattractive. Eminem indulges in a certain degree of having his cake and eating it, following a lot of these lines up with a lyric that disputes or apologises for them, locked as he supposedly is in a battle with his alter ego. Occasionally, the grim stuff lands a queasy punch. More often, it feels so desperate that it ends up committing the cardinal sin of being boring and repetitious: put it this way, if Caitlyn Jenner got a royalty for every time her name was used as a punchline, she’d be an even richer woman.

That said, there are things to enjoy about The Death of Slim Shady. Eminem’s technical abilities are as striking as ever: striking enough that when he claims rappers go after Lamar because they’re too scared to come after him, it doesn’t feel like an entirely hollow boast. The guest appearances by underrated Atlanta rapper JID and Shady Records affiliate Ez Mil are strong. As well as Lucifer, a handful of tracks work in purely musical terms. The brooding menace of Road Rage shifts thrillingly into acid-fuelled electro. Guilty Conscience 2 gradually and effectively ratchets up a sense of tension. The staccato strings and soul vocal of Bad One are put to eerie good use.

But for all its attempts at time travel, The Death of Slim Shady feels like just another late-period Eminem album. It has successes and misfires in equal measure. It’s not bad enough to count as terrible, not good enough to count as great. It’s bolstered by technical ability but afflicted by a creeping sense of purposelessness. It’s doubtless another huge hit, but there isn’t enough to counter the incisive line about Eminem recently posited by Questlove: that he’s a man “maybe with nothing to say any more, but with quite a talent for saying it”.

Hip Hop’s male artists at least should have a guilty conscience. Not to say they are bad artists or making music that is not cutting the mustard. I feel that we are in a time when they need to stand up. Rap and Hip-Hop being afflicted still with misogyny and aggression. Artists like Kendrick Lamar showing the very worst sides of Hip-Hop. Think about what Hip-Hop used to be and what it is now. We are in this crucial time. Where are these huge albums that tackles the political corruption and horror in the U.S.?! How about genocide in Gaza?! The rise in male violence, continued police corruption and the way so many people struggle to keep their heads about water?! Fertile soil and plenty of ammunition for artists to launch from. Springboards that are not being approached. Again, if we want to see this sort of passion come out in important lyrics that tackle big themes, we look to women. It is a pretty tepid and directionless scene right now. That is not to say there is no great Hip-Hop coming from male artists. There is. I think that there is more division and violence in the world than there was during years when Hip-Hop legends dedicated entire albums calling out this injustice and evil. Why not now?! Is it the case that, like Eminem, artists want to rely on being offensive and misogynistic?! It seems pretty desperate that there are so few albums from men in Hip-Hop lately that capture your attention. I am trying to think. Maybe stuff from Run the Jewels a few years back. There is so much to address. The climate emergency and the terror the U.S. finds itself in regarding its leader. So much uncertainty and evil. You have to ask where the outrage and that same sort of anger is that defined Hip-Hop in the late-1980s. Even the more comical and peaceful blends of Beastie Boys and De La Soul.

It seems a shame that many artists feel muzzled and restricted because of ‘wokeness’. That feeling they cannot say anything and have no freedom. That essentially means they can’t write music without offending people and being bigoted. If we have come to that point then we are in trouble! I know many men in Hip-Hop are becoming more personal and revealing. This is great to see. We need that in Hip-Hop. What we are seeing less and less is what Hip-Hop should have at its core: voices that are saying what politicians are not. The sort of righteousness and common sense that is lacking from our leaders. It is a deafening silence in Hip-Hop. As I say, it seems to be a case of male artists lacking. I can’t think what is holding them back. At the moment, the toxicity of Rap beefs threatened to derail any noble and pure attempts at political and socially aware Hip-Hop. There is this black mark that needs to be erased. I think we are in a really frightening and unsettling time. So few artists having any sort of teeth and attack. If they do, their energies are going towards the wrong subjects. We don’t hear the same sort of sample and sonic innovation as years past. It has been years since a genuine Hip-Hop classic has come out. You get the odd masterpiece here and there. It is such an opportune moment when artists should be stepping up. I guess we don’t really have Rap groups anymore. More solo artists and fewer collectives. Even so, there is the firepower, talent and potential out there. It is being squandered. Old masters releasing tepid and toothless music. New artists perhaps overlooked or perhaps wary of being too political through fears of divisiveness and backlash. Where are artists standing up for women and showing solidarity rather than attacking them and debasing them?! What about the men of Hip-Hop igniting some of that intensity and fire that defined the best Hip-Hop albums of the decades past?! Where we are now is troubling. Aside from a few wonderful and important artists coming through, most of the rest are…

A disappointment.

FEATURE: Lights On: FKA twigs’ LP1 at Ten

FEATURE:

 

 

Lights On

FKA twigs’ LP1 at Ten

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ONE of the best…

PHOTO CREDIT: Jamie-James Medina via The New York Times

debut albums of the 2010s, FKA twigs’ LP1 turns ten on 6th August. Nominated for a Mercury Prize in 2014, I wanted to celebrate an amazing debut. In addition to a Mercury nod, it was nominated for a GRAMMY too. A top twenty success in the U.K., LP1 was voted one of the best albums of the year by a number of magazines and websites. LP1 followed her debut E.P., EP1, from 2012. EP2 was released in 2013. FKA twigs was nominated for the BBC Sound of 2014. There was a lot of anticipation around her debut album. I am going to get to some strongly positive reviews for LP1. I want to start out with an interview from The Guardian. A former backup dancer for Kylie Minogue, this was an artist stepping into the spotlight. Surreal imagery and a seductive and compelling sound, there was a lot of interest around her after the momentum of two E.P.s and honours:

“Tahliah Barnett began her career as a dancer. Growing up in Gloucester as the only mixed-race girl in her Catholic school, a natural rhythm propelled her to childhood classes and through to an eventual career throwing shapes for pop stars; the click her bones made when in motion prompting her stage name. Her clients included Kylie Minogue, whom she worked for even as her own EP2 was getting serious notice. "It was incredibly humbling," she says. "It's really good to be in one environment where everyone's like, 'Twigs, are you OK, can I get you a glass of water' to another environment where you're one of 20 backing dancers in a cold room and no one's fed you for five hours." She also danced for Jessie J, Taio Cruz and Plan B, whom she describes as "a sick, actual artist. He's so involved: there at 10am explaining how he wanted each of the dancers to have their own character."

She sets this positive experience first against much of the world of commercial dancing. "Usually it's just 'look hot and wear hotpants'. You go to dance school, you train your arse off for five years, you can do a triple pirouette on your head and land in the splits, and then you come out and someone's like: 'What are your measurements?'" It's a long way from Josephine Baker, the dancer who scandalised Paris in the 1920s with her nearly naked routines, and whom twigs admires. "She's saying: 'I'm doing this and it's for me.' She's giving to the crowd, but ultimately she's enjoying the way she moves, and her love is in the movement. Nowadays it's: 'I'm going to shake my arse like this, and it's for you, to make you feel a certain way.'"

Twigs rails against this "bizarre time in the world, where you can be so famous, so elevated, but none of it is your own vision". She herself refuses to give up creative control and, in fact, is determined to extend it wherever possible. Take the production on the album. Punk was what she grew up on, and initially tried her hand at, "but I'm terrible at shouting. It wasn't me. I was just trying to fulfil my Poly Styrene fantasies." Instead, she taught herself the software package Ableton and has numerous production credits on her album, alongside Kanye fave Arca, Dev Hynes, Sampha, Bruno Mars and Eminem producer Emile Haynie, plus Paul Epworth, the Oscar-winning Adele collaborator. All were picked for their ability to "fill in my blanks, in things I'm not good at". Sampha helped with chords, conjuring specific emotions like feeling "brooding but with an underlying hope, but mainly depressed"; Epworth helped with "structure". She has also taken control of her music videos, which she's now directing with production company Academy at her back.

"I like that she knows what she wants," says Nabil Elderkin, a director who worked with twigs on Two Weeks and has also shot videos for Nicki Minaj and Arctic Monkeys. "She doesn't sacrifice anything for popularity, she just comes in and does it her own way. That's how some of the best artists today work: Kanye West, Bon Iver, James Blake, Frank Ocean. And twigs is exactly the same thing. She has imagination and art and puts it out how she wants. She's in control of that 100%."

While she gets to be submissive in her personal life ("I'm like, 'Bagsy being little spoon!' every night"), this domination of every aspect of her career is proving a tiring business. But, to wring out the metaphor, she can go all night. "I'm exhausted, but whatever," she says. "Now is the time to be doing it, and as long as I'm happy I'll keep on doing it. But if I'm unhappy, I'll just disappear. I will shave off my hair and live in the south of France, and I'll be learning a new language where no one gives a shit about who I am. I need to be happy”.

Because LP1 turns ten on 6th August, I wanted to spend time with it. There are not many features about the album. Maybe the tenth anniversary will change that. I am going to bring in a few reviews for this stunning album. FKA twigs’ new album, Eusexua, will be released later this year. I want to stay with The Guardian and their take on LP1. Even if it will pass some people by on its anniversary, I feel it warrants more acclaim and acknowledgement:

“Tahliah Barnett, a dancer from Cheltenham whose previous brush with fame involved appearing in the videos for Do It Like a Dude and Price Tag by the legendarily enigmatic avant-R&B auteur Jessie J. Moreover, enthusiasm for her work seems to have been undimmed by the sub-genre of alt-R&B reaching a kind of saturation point. From the Weeknd's troubled and troubling reinvention of the priapic R&B loverman, via the divas hooking up with experimental dubstep producers, to the countless indie artists knowingly dabbling, there's been an awful lot of it made in recent years. Even its most dogged adherent must now have enough tracks on which an etiolated chillwavey synth washes over a Rodney Jerkins-influenced beat to last them a lifetime.

That FKA Twigs' releases to date have been met with excitement rather than ennui tells you a lot about how singular the music she makes is. It's not just Barnett's fondness for Björkesque visual presentation that recalls the late 90s: what LP1 really invokes is a radically updated take on Pre-Millennium Tension and Angels with Dirty Faces, the dark, brilliant, career-knackering albums Tricky made while literally maddened by a combination of drugs and candidiasis, an infection brought on by asthma medication. It opens with the kind of choral singing that normally heralds imminent death in a film about demonic possession, rather than an album full of R&B slowjams. Whether cooing or moaning or drenched in effects, Barnett's voice always sounds distinctively British: she shows off her vocal chops not by indulging in melismatic showboating, but by swooping into a high, choirgirl-like register. The arrangements short-circuit, lapsing into dischord or silence; disconnected sounds suddenly arrive out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly; the beats occasionally clatter out of time or appear so scattered and sporadically that it's hard to grasp exactly what's going on rhythmically.

As you might expect, this approach works best when there's a strong melody at the centre of it all. At its least appealing, as on Numbers, LP1 sounds like a load of quirky sonic ideas scampering about in desperate search of a song to cling to – there are moments when the sudden bursts of noise and dischord sound irritatingly intrusive. But when the tunes match the invention of the production, LP1 is genuinely brilliant. The chorus of Lights On gleams brightly through the disorientating clatter, Two Weeks sounds thrillingly like a hit record that's being allowed to unravel before your ears.

The one similarity between Barnett's work and that of the Weeknd is their shared interest in subverting R&B stereotypes: while the Weekend casts the amoral, moneyed "playa" in a disturbing new light, Barnett's songs offer a distinctive take on the traditional female roles of seductress and wronged woman. The sirens she portrays are frequently confused and vulnerable. Their sexual assertiveness is underscored by self-doubt, which seems a pretty realistic depiction of sexual assertiveness, regardless of gender: "When I trust you we can do it with the lights on." Other times, they seem faintly terrifying, lust bordering on obsessiveness. "I could kiss you for hours," she sings, her voice gradually slowed down until it sounds like a threat: you're not sure whether the recipient of her affections should willingly submit to her charms or get their number changed. "How does it feel to have me thinking about you?" offers Pendulum: it should be a straightforward come-on, but something about the musical backdrop – muted guitar, rattling electronic percussion, a creaking noise that sounds like wood about to splinter, her voice high and ghostly – makes her question seem unsettling. How does it feel to have you thinking about me? Um, can I get back to you on that?

Her wronged women, meanwhile, aren't resilient I-Will-Survive types: they sound utterly crushed. "You lie and you lie and you lie … I can't recognise me," complains Video Girl, before the song grinds slowly to a halt, as if collapsing entirely. The abandoned protagonist of the closing Kicks elects to take matters into her own hands, so to speak. "I don't need you, I love my touch, know just what to do, so I tell myself it's cool," sings Barnett, bringing 45 minutes of confusing, fumbled come-ons and romantic disappointment to an impressively bathetic conclusion by giving up and having a wank instead.

It almost goes without saying that not many albums of any genre end like that. But then not many albums sound like LP1, a singular piece of work in an overcrowded market. It has its flaws – as you might have intuited from the videos and press shots, they largely stem from trying a bit too hard – but you leave it convinced that FKA Twigs is an artist possessed of a genuinely strong and unique vision, one that doesn't need bolstering with an aura of mystique. Given the times we live in, that's probably just as well!”.

A couple more reviews before I round things off. The Line of Best Fit awarded LP1 9/10 when they sat down to review the album. It still sound enormously original and fascinating. I don’t think there was anything like LP1 in 2014. I was really curious about FKA twigs when she came through. Her music instantly connected with me. I was engrossed. I am not sure whether there is a tenth anniversary reissue. You can get a vinyl copy of LP1 here:

“Although, the sound is all very familiar in one sense – it’s traumatic and tender, it’s sparse and frail – it’s also completely otherworldly. A bizarro take on R&B, seizing and erupting with the jolt of surging electricity; there’s a matte pulse of bass here, samples of broken glass or car alarms there, and instead of beats, the sound of a skeleton falling down a staircase in slow motion. Barnett, and her cabal of producers (including, but not limited to, Paul Epworth, Sampha and Dev Hynes), jury-rig a possessed, soul-infused machination. A creaking automaton, gushing steam from armor-chinks, and clattering with each agonising step, it blends ecclesiastical urban hymns, neo-classical art music, ambient electronica, ‘90s R&B, pop, soul and all essentially all mutations of modern dance.

Akin to Halls his more elegiac moments, the record’s highlight – “Closer” – takes the essence of a tearjerk eulogy and wraps it up in a futuristic coating, like some kind of sorrow-laced pig-in-a-blanket. At times, as on “Preface”, she spasms through crumbling chancels, Barnett’s choral coo distorting through demonic electromagnets, ocean-filled lungs and Poltergeist-static as if foolishly stoic faced with the abrupt void. “Closer” is a solemn hymn for a decrepit future, with sample-heavy synths and ambient R&B backing her death-rattle: “Isolation/isolation/isolation…”

“Lights On” is a supernova at the other end of the spectrum. It’s stringently mellifluous, foaming with melody and fluid grace. Most of her tracks rest on a taut tune, but they’re often cracked and dispersed – for example of “Pendulum”, with the hook-diaspora floating between gizmo chirrups and the staggered techno-yells. On “Lights On”, a paean to making luuurve, Barnett is explicit. She oozes an unseen bravado. There are dark implications: is this a momentary lapse in anxiety? Is this her skin peeled back, beaming true colours? It may still seem fraught with terror: “When I trust you we can do it with the lights on…”, but delving into semantics, she’s knowing. She’s not some flimsy damsel. It’s “when I trust you”, not “if I trust you” – she’s expectant. There’s a confidence in where the relationship is going. It’s subtle, but it implies a more Machiavellian side to the siren-song of Barnett as she takes the psychological control of the situation. There’s more scalding fury, primal energy and swaggering confidence than she lets on initially. Perhaps it’s too deep a reading; perhaps, like the deep-sea angler fish, she’s lured us close with something hypnotic, so utterly transfixing, that we won’t see her lethal strike until we’re spewing merlot from a perforated jugular.

Whether the above is true or not remains to be seen. Regardless, it is testament to the depth available. It’s an ambiguous record, erring towards certain scenarios and emotions, but ultimately, you can glean a variety of readings. It’s not a record that’ll smack you in the face with bolsh and pace, and so in the inevitable repeated listens, as you listen harder, you’ll find yourself scurrying through various interpretations of the lyrics – is “Video Girl” about fame and image-obsession or is it about self-confidence? Is “Two Weeks” filthy or comforting?

In a climate where instant gratification is rife, where the adhered-to pop formula of massive hooks, massive beats, dumbed-down lyrics, monosyllabic choruses and plastic parping pap, this is a complex beast, and one that can’t be defeated overnight. LP1 is not an easy record by any means – though you may be lucky enough to be completely besotted on first sight. Like any relationship, it demands work and effort; if you’ve been hooked by Barnett’s early noise (admittedly, tracks like “Papi Pacify” are simpler to love), then you’ll want to put the hours in. You’ll need to. This longform escapade is the real McCoy, and where the magic happens. The honeymoon period is over”.

I am going to end with a positive review from Pitchfork. They saluted a monumental debut from FKA twigs. They noted how none of her mystique was lost. Experimental, bold and stronger than anything her peers were coming out with, this was an artist fully-formed and truly magnetic. I stand by the claim that LP1 is one of the most important and strongest debut albums of the 2010s:

“Building on her co-produced debut EP with Tic and her Arca-produced EP2, the sound throughout is a crystalline jumble of splinters and shards, of stuttering drum machines cutting against arrhythmic clatter—metronomes winding down, car alarms bleating dully into the night. Her voice, the most awe-inspiring instrument on the album, flits between Auto-Tuned artifice and raw carnality. As an acrobat, she's a natural, but she's not afraid to lean on a little digital enhancement. One minute it's a flash-frozen sigh; the next, it's a melon-balled dollop of flesh. As futuristic as her music is, no single technology dominates. Elastic digital effects brush up against 808s, and icy synth stabs share space with acoustic bass. The common denominator is the crackling sense of dread that persists when the notes go silent and the beat drops out, which is often. The overall effect is that of R&B that has been run through some kind of matter-transporting beam and put together wrong on the other end, full of glitches and hard, jutting artifacts.

The most obvious reference points, aside from the spectrum of breathy, synth-heavy R&B that stretches from Ciara through the Weeknd and Beyoncé, are first-gen trip-hop acts like Portishead and Tricky, with their charcoal-streaked affect and sumptuous sense of texture. There are also clear links to contemporary UK artists working the margins between R&B and electronic music, like James Blake, the xx, and even Sophie, she of the deconstructed Saturday-morning rave choons. Her own vocal style, or at least her stratospheric range, evokes Kate Bush and even Tori Amos. More provocative, though, is the way she and her producers wrangle a whole host of unlikely references into the mix: "Two Weeks" features blushing chords reminiscent of late Cocteau Twins and a junkyard guitar lead straight out of Tom Waits' Rain Dogs. Even more incongruously, "Two Weeks" cribs a fleeting riff from Air Supply's "All Out of Love."

At the same time, it's a testament to the strength of her vision that the album is as cohesive as it is, despite having so many producers involved, including Arca, Devonté Hynes, Clams Casino, and Grammy-winning journeyman Emile Haynie (Eminem's Recovery, Lana Del Rey's "Born to Die" and "Blue Jeans," Kanye West's "Runaway"). Sampha helps out on the brittle "Numbers," a Portishead-gone-footwork number that serves as the album's energetic peak, and, perhaps most surprisingly, Paul Epworth (Adele, Coldplay, the Rapture) is responsible for "Pendulum," the album's literal and emotional centerpiece.

FKA twigs is not a masterful lyricist, at least not yet; some of her couplets feel clunky, like she's grasping in the dark for rhymes and coming up with the objects closest to hand ("If the flame gets blown out and you shine/ I will know that you cannot be mine"). But when she zeroes in on the essence of a thing, she hits hard. The brazen "Two Weeks" features lines as vivid as red welts: "Higher than a motherfucker", "I can fuck you better than her." (The Weeknd only wishes he could make depravity sound so soul-destroyingly desperate.) On top of that, there's a whole thing about pulling out teeth that tips the song into some kind of freaky David Cronenberg territory, making her drugged-up and tied-down fantasies all the more tantalizingly surreal.

If "Two Weeks" represents the album's sensual core, "Pendulum" is the epicenter of the record's underlying sense of heartbreak, with its glum mantra, "So lonely trying to be yours." Lyrically, the song finds twigs at her most plainspoken—it's a long way off from last year's similarly devastating, but far more cryptic, "Water Me"—so it feels significant that it's one of the album's most sonically out-there songs, with a rhythm built out of what sounds like a roulette wheel run amok and its wash of synthesizers like a sky full of fireflies in death spirals”.

On 6th August, LP1 turns ten. An album that warrants a lot more column inches and discussion, FKA twigs has since gone on to release more material and appear in films. One of our very finest artists. I really love LP1. From the wonderful Two Weeks, Lights On and Hours, through to deeper cuts like Closer and Numbers, this is a majestic and hugely powerful debut album. One that still reveals new layers and aspects a decade later. Tahliah Barnett’s alter ego released a spectacular debut in 2014. LP1 proved that in there was nobody out there like her. It still sounds…

LIKE nothing else.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: America '85

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

America '85

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IN this series…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush at Tower Records, New York in November 1985 (where she was promoting Hounds of Love)

I am looking at various interesting times of Kate Bush’s career. I started out with looking at East Wickham Farm and its allure. How it was this incredibly engaging and inspiring place for a young Kate Bush. I am mostly going to be looking at this chronologically and working my way to the present day. One reason that I wanted to skip ahead to 1985 is because I have been thinking about her time in America. Now, Kate Bush is known there. Not as much as she should be, though she has got more traction and support there since the start of her career. One of most alarming and stressful times of her career was when she was discussing Hounds of Love in 1985. There would have been call for her to go to America because of the fact she had more fans there. Bush was no stranger to travel, yet it would have been quite an upheaval going to America for some promotional interviews. She did not perform live there. Instead, it was a moment when the nation was starting to react positively to her music. Not that the trip was a complete disaster. You look at the interviews from that time and you can sense this real clash and discomfort. Interviewers not really aware of who she is even. It would not be accepted today. I am not going to dwell on the horror and negative aspects. It is an important moment in her career. I guess, from EMI’s perspective, there was this opportunity for Kate Bush to establish herself there. Hounds of Love reached number thirty in the U.S. It was a big achievement. Given that fans at least knew who she was and responded to her music, that was not really mirrored when it came to critics and the media. Reviews for Hounds of Love in the U.S. were not all great. The country still not quite sure what to make of her.

There is not really anything specifically written about Kate Bush’s trip to America in 1985. We discuss Hounds of Love and its popularity. America was this sacred land for artists. The need to break the country. Kate Bush was never concerned about that. She loved her fans there, though there was this real culture clash. Listen to interviews from that time and I am not sure whether there was this realisation that Kate Bush was special and this wonderful artist. A sort of bafflement and confusion about her music. It was the ill-informed nature of the interviews that is quite galling. Live at Five was not the best interview. Some say that an Entertainment Tonight interview from the time was harmless enough. One of the interviews that gets highlighted when we look at Kate Bush in America is her Nightflight encounter. Bush’s interview with Nightflight was a lead balloon. A disaster. There are few televised interviews with her that are as awkward and memorable as this. It is the fact that the interviewer seemingly went into the encounter without any information or knowledge of Kate Bush. In 2022, LOUDER wrote about a truly excruciating encounter:

“If you'd had 'Kate Bush becomes one of 2022's defining artists' on your list of predictions for the year, you've have been called an eccentric, an idiot or, as it turns out, something of a prophet. Few could have imagined that Running Up That Hill would be given a new lease of life almost 40 years after its release, but then few could have predicted its central importance to the plot of the latest and much-hyped season of Stranger Things.

It's sparked an unprecedented new wave of interest in one of British music's most unique and enigmatic icons, pushing new fans to discover many of Bush's greatest musical achievements and most famous moments for the very first time. On the latter, new attention has been drawn to what might be Kate Bush's most infamous interview - a 37 minute chat with US show Night Flight filmed in November, 1985. Bush had made a rare trip to the States to promote latest album Hounds Of Love - the record which gave birth to Running Up That Hill - and what was presumably designed as a relatively straightforward new album junket ended up being one of the most cringeworthy experiences the singer-songwriter had surely endured in her career to that point.

In the unedited footage, which wasn't originally shown on the broadcast but has since been uploaded to YouTube, Bush can be seeing demonstrating the patience of a saint as she has to deal with a series of questions that range from banal to borderline offensive, dodgy takes on her music, delays and interruptions to the interview continuing and requests to record a series of tedious sound bytes multiple times.

Particular 'highlights' include: Bush visibly stopping herself laughing at the interviewer describing the songs on Hounds Of Love as "dance songs"; multiple instances of assistants interrupting the talk to mess around with her mic, clothing and hair; her obvious bemusement at being asked which male figure she considers a "sex symbol"; having to repeatedly explain that she didn't use backing singers on certain Hounds Of Love tracks despite the interviewer's insistence that she did and, most astonishingly of all, a moment at the end of the video where she is asked to record a special clip explaining what "attracts [her] the most" about a man”.

I think that interview was a big reason why Kate Bush was not concerned with breaking America. A good reason not to go back. She did first promote in America in 1978. Between 1978 and 2011, there were few occasions when she travelled to the U.S. Even f the country gave inspiration to a song or two (Coffee Homeground from Lionheart (1978) among them), a potentially golden promotional jaunt in 1985 did not pan out. It was not a complete car crash. There was one or two interviews that were not too bad. Kate Bush did sign copies of Hounds of Love at Tower Records. She was there twice at that New York record shop. On 17th November, 1985, she was there. This was just before her appearances on Live at Five and Nightflight. In spite of all the awkwardness and some interviews that were a bit of a waste of her time, there were some good moments. At least Hounds of Love got exposure. There were plenty of fans there embracing her. I think that it was the media that was the problem. Bush was, as always, professional and patient. Maybe she did enjoy a few of the interviews. It was not only the Nightflight chat that was embarrassing and a wreck. You look at some videos and you wonder what interviewers were wondering. What sort of artist they were expecting! It couldn’t have been pleasant for Kate Bush to come into these interviews and not be understood. To almost have to hold her tongue.

On the positive side, she did get her music played. A good chart position for Hounds of Love. She did go back to America. Her albums fared quite well. Even if the country took until a couple of years ago to really connect with Kate Bush, there was this sense of engagement in 1985. A moment when she was too big to ignore. Rather than it being this occasion where she had these great and informed interviews, there was a mix of the awful and less so. It must have been quite jarring for her when things were over. It still surprises me that there was mixed reaction to her in America in 1985. Such a huge and genius album like Hounds of Love did not quite penetrate and resonate. I do not know why there was hesitation. American interviewers should have been more prepared. It was not like the album suddenly popped up and they had no time to research. It goes to show what artists had to face. This rotation of interviews where the other person was not really engaged or informed. Testament to Kate Bush’s strength and kindness that she answered questions and did not lose her temper. I wonder what she thinks of that brief time in the U.S. in 1985. There would have been some highlights (the MTV experience was not too bad). That Tower Records signing would have been amazing. The odd interview was okay. All of this whirlwind and promotion happened on 17th November, 1985:

“Kate flies on the Concorde to New York (via Washington, D.C.) to promote the album and single. She makes a personal appearance at the Tower Record Store in Greenwich Village for which the queue extends for hundreds of yards around the block. She appears on the local New York news programme Live at Five, and tapes an interview for later airing on the cable programmes Night Flight, Heartlight City and Radio 1990. She also visits the MTV studios to tape a brace of short interviews. She is also interviewed by Love-Hound Doug Alan.

A track from the new album, Hello Earth, is featured as background music for a scene in the then-top-rated U.S. TV series Miami Vice.

From New York, Kate travels to Toronto where she tapes at least five more interviews (all from the same studios). These will appear on various Canadian programmes, including the national evening news, Much Music, The New Music, Good Rockin' Tonite, and various local news reports”.

It was a busy time for her. Maybe things were so hectic she shook off the U.S. pretty quickly. I do sympathise with her. She travelled a long way and was not quite met with the love she deserved. I am endlessly fascinated by her 1985 trip. Even if some embraced her with open arms, that was not the case with everyone. The divine Kate Bush deserved…

MUCH more respect.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Tyler Lewis

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

Tyler Lewis

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IF this artist is not on your radar…

PHOTO CREDIT: Leila Afghan

then you really need to make sure that she is on there. The magnificent Tyler Lewis is someone I am new to. I am determined to keep an eye on her progress. Someone who has a distinct and strong sound, I can see her going places. Primed to be a big name in years to come. There are some interesting interviews with Tyler Lewis from this year. I will come to those soon enough. Before moving on and having a bit of a deeper dive into her music, this is a brief bit of biography about a brilliant ad arresting young talent:

“Tyler Lewis was born and raised in West London, but grew up with a rich musical influence from icons such as Michael Jackson and Toni Braxton, through Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran and Earth Wind and Fire. As she grew up, modern icons came into focus such as Bruno Mars, Craig David, Justin Timberlake and more recently people like SZA.

Drawing from these influences and far beyond, Tyler’s voice and song-writer has found her connecting with some of these icons and creatives at the beginning of her journey as an artist in her own right. She brings a unique blend to her music that’s both nostalgic and fresh”.

The exceptional downtime and fly on the wall are proof that we have a very special artist in our midst. I think that Lewis is going to be a festival fixture next year. Someone who is going to be playing an array of fascinating stages around the country. She is a really fresh voice that offers a blend of her heroes and something distinctly her own.

I want to start out by looking at an interview from NOTION that was published in February. After releasing the incredible debut, downtime, the then-twenty-two-year-old discussed her musical firsts. I am always interesting charting rising artists and what they are offering the industry. Who they are influenced by and what their sound is. I am already a fan of Tyler Lewis. Her heritage and musical upbringing combines to create this rich and nuanced voice – both literal and lyrical:

“Meet Tyler Lewis, a 22-year-old artist establishing her musical narrative. The west Londoner’s roots trace a fascinating journey across Sri Lankan, Dutch, Portuguese, and South African heritage, which is mirrored in her diverse musical palette.

Picture a prodigious talent whose journey began at the tender age of nine. This was the genesis of Tyler, winning hearts and a school talent contest with a rendition of Mariah Carey’s ‘Hero.’ Fast forward to now, and she finds herself sharing the limelight with luminaries like Kiana Ledé, Becky Hill, Tyla, Yebba, Jessie J, and the ever-inspiring Mahalia, who acknowledged just what this young talent had to offer, propelling her into the spotlight.

With her debut single, ‘downtime,’ releasing this week, Tyler invites listeners into her world: a realm where pop and R&B converge in perfect harmony. Directed by the visionary Ray Fiasco, known for his work with Pa Salieu, Knucks, and Dizzee Rascal, the accompanying video promises a visual spectacle that mirrors the track’s cool and vibey essence.

Collaborating intimately with Grammy Award-winning artist and producer MNEK, Tyler’s creative metamorphosis makes her a one-to-watch, fusing nostalgia and innovation that echoes influences ranging from Luther Vandross to SZA.

Beyond the stage, Tyler commands a formidable presence on social media, boasting over 170,000 followers on TikTok and Instagram. Her powerful covers resonate with fans, showcasing not only her vocal prowess but also her ability to breathe new life into established classics.

As anticipation builds for ‘downtime,’ Tyler Lewis emerges not just as an artist but as a curator of musical experiences. So, buckle up for a journey that traverses the past, embraces the present, and hints at an exciting musical future.

First song you ever made?

‘No enemies’ in January 2021, which was written in my first session with MNEK, Iain James and Jade Thirwall. It was the first time hearing myself recorded properly, so I listened to it like 20 times a day for two months.

First time you fell in love with music?

Music has been a constant throughout my life, so I can’t really pinpoint a moment. Growing up my mum played a lot of Usher, Mariah Carey, and Luther Vandross, but because it was the norm, I never really thought about it. I now appreciate the role music played growing up in my household because my life really wouldn’t be the same as it is now.

First CD or record you owned?

The Pussycat Dolls – Doll Domination. It was actually a gift from the tooth fairy when I lost my first tooth.

First time you realised you wanted to be an artist?

I first realised I wanted to be an artist after Little Mix: The Search ended. I always intended to go back to a regular job, but when it was done, I couldn’t imagine doing anything other than singing.

First gig you went to?

Justin Bieber for the All Around the World tour.  I wore a Justin Bieber t-shirt and had a Justin Bieber lunchbox. I also remember genuinely thinking I was going to be his ‘One Less Lonely Girl’, and when I wasn’t, it was like I was dealing with a breakup in real-time.

First time you faced an obstacle in your career?

I think confidence was the biggest obstacle. I didn’t think I could write music, and I hated recording in the booth so sessions, even though they were so fun initially, were also really scary, and I could never sleep the night before them. That in turn made me not present at all in those sessions because I was so in my head the whole time.

First time you felt like giving up?

When I first started doing live performances, the nerves were unbearable. I would literally feel sick for days before and would only feel that relief when it was done. The anxiety was so bad I contemplated if I really was meant to be a singer. But after so much more experience singing live, I love it like nothing else. I still get anxious but I love doing it”.

Prior to getting to an interview with NME, I want to stop in to Wonderland. There was so much interest and buzz around Tyler Lewis earlier in the year. With downtime as her debut single, it is only natural that there would be a lot of eyes and ears her way. Standing above the competition. Someone making a very early name for herself. It is going to be interesting seeing to see where Tyler Lewis heads next. There will be an anticipated debut E.P., Wait ‘Til She Gets Her Heart Broken, out on 31st July. I would recommend people check that out. I can imagine there will be an album at some point. How she develops and grows as an artist will be really intriguing. Watch this space:

“What artists do you take inspiration from and how has the impacted your career so far?

I feel like finding my ‘sound’ was so important at the start because all the people I look up to have such a distinct sound. I am heavily influenced by some of the classics like Prince and Luther Vandross, but I also look up to artists like Silk Sonic who have found their ‘thing’ and just mastered it completely. Another important thing I love about Luther Vandross and Whitney Houston is that the music was at the forefront always. It wasn’t about being gimmicky or anything. They just sang, and people listened. I want to be like that.

How does your London background impact the music you create?

London is a culturally rich place anyway, and the music scene is just saturated with a million different genres. Being exposed to so much music growing up has definitely helped shape my music into what it is now. There’s so much going on in London all the time, so finding inspiration is never hard. If I’ve got writers block, all I have to do is hop on a train, stroll round for ten minutes before I see something that sparks an idea!

Congratulations on dropping your new track, ‘downtime’. Could you share your creative process for the track and generally?

‘downtime’ was written in the fourth-ever session! I was with MNEK, Iain James and Ryan Ashley, and we were discussing topics to explore, and they were asking what I like doing in my free time. I distinctly remember saying, ‘I never leave the house. I love being at home relaxing by myself,’ and that’s how the concept of downtime was created.

In general, my songs usually start with me asking the producer to do whatever. I like letting the producer do their thing for a bit while I sit and chat to the other writer in the room. Then when we have latched onto chords we like, we will all take turns trying out melodies, and when we have decided on those, then we write.

I never force a song. Sometimes it doesn’t naturally happen, but then other times the songs practically write themselves. Downtime was one of those songs that just wrote itself, and from the moment it was recorded I thought, ‘This is my sound.’

The accompanying video is also a great accompaniment. What messages and narratives are you aiming to convey with the visuals?

I want everyone to watch the video and think, ‘Ugh, I’ve felt like that!’ I have been that person at a party, feeling anxious, awkward, and just wanting to be home. Everyone has felt like this at one point or another, and it’s so normal! Even in the second verse, I say, ‘God I’m such a loner sometimes, I’ve learned to be my own valentine.’ I never dated people growing up and was so embarrassed, and looking back, that’s crazy, and there are a million other people feeling the same way. I just want people to listen to downtime and just relate.

You work closely with MNEK, what’s it like to work with him?

MNEK is an incredible writer and producer, and he is just really fun to work with and be around. No session with him is ever a dull one! Having him alongside me through this whole process of ‘finding myself as an artist’ has been such a privilege.

Any New Year’s resolutions for the coming year?

I don’t want to say ’New year, New me’ because I’ve been the same for 22 years now, but I do want to leave my comfort zone a whole lot more. Releasing music and being an artist for the first time is helping me do that anyway, but even things like this are new to me. I just wanna look back at 2024 Tyler and think, YOU DID THAT!

And what does the rest of 2024 look like for you? Can you give us a glimpse into any upcoming projects or collaborations?

I can confirm that an EP is on the way. More music videos. And choreography too. I have no collabs planned as of yet, but I want to speak a few into existence like D Mile, Silk Sonic, and Babyface. Those are on my bucket list as of right now! Also, some more songwriting for other artists!”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Massimiliano Giorgeschi

Go and follow Tyler Lewis on social media. I am going to end with a recent interview from NME. Now twenty-three, there are more eyes on the future rather than her debut single. This amazing E.P. will offer new material and sides to her. I am predicting a long run of E.P.s and albums from Lewis. With everything she puts out, there will be fresh innovations, twists and colours. I am really excited to see what is offered up on Wait ‘Til She Gets Her Heart Broken. Lewis is someone who comes across really well in interviews. Compelling and intelligent, you feel instantly bonded to her:

“There’s a song on your debut EP called ‘Never Been in Love’ that feels so honest. How was it writing – and now sharing – something like that?

“When it came to writing about love, I had zero experience. In school, everyone around [me] was in relationships and I just never did that stuff. So I was like, I could technically write about it and base it on a character in a film that I love or something, but then I’m going to sing it and have no story. There would be nothing I could relate it to. Writing ‘Never Been in Love’ was like writing in a diary. It felt quite easy, especially with the room of people I work with; I can be myself with them. I think that’s why the EP was written slightly later, with the right people, because I was comfortable enough to chat about anything.”

What’s been inspiring you sonically during the creation of this project?

“With [my song] ‘Eventually’, I remember saying: ‘I want something raw that I can really sing to’. When I listen to Jazmine Sullivan, I feel like, ‘Oh my god, she’s just singing’ and it feels so raw – I feel like that was an inspiration for that song. And when I listen to Brandy, I love how soft she sounds sometimes; I feel like that applies to ‘Downtime’. [Elsewhere], on a song like ‘So Amazing’ by Luther Vandross, when it gets to the bit where there’s a little bassline change, every time – no matter how many times I’ve listened to it – I’m waiting for it. That’s what I’ve been trying to put into all the songs. Those are the bits you latch onto.” 

On ‘Downtime’ you sing about wanting to leave a party you never really planned to attend in the first place. What’s the worst party you’ve ever been to?

“It was when I was in college. It was at the stage where everyone just wanted to be crazy. Whereas I remember sitting in a chair in the corner of the room just watching everyone, thinking, ‘This could never be me’. I’m just like stroking the cat, and chilling in the corner eating…”

What do you want people to remember your music for?

“I just want it to be timeless. So even in 10 years, people say: ‘Oh my god, that song you wrote 10 years ago is so great, I still listen to it’. It’s easy in this day and age to listen to 30 seconds of a song and be done with it, or get over it when the next song comes along. But I want [my songs] to be classics that people move from each playlist as they grow up.”

Could that be part of the reason you’ve honed in on this more classic – but still contemporary – R&B sound, that many may already associate with being timeless?

“100 percent. I feel like even with TikTok, it’s such a huge thing and everyone’s goal is to go viral. But then even firsthand when I was doing covers, I would see how quickly the support comes in but then it goes; the highs and the [lows]. As soon as you’re back to where you started, it’s like, ‘This is horrible’. With my music, I just want to be so constant”.

With her debut E.P. out on 31st July, there will be a lot more focus the way of Tyler Lewis. More fans that will be added to her foundation. Being tipped as someone to watch very closely, there is so much to respect and admire about her. It is only a matter of time before we are seeing Lewis headlining stages. Her music goes deep and stays in the mind. She definitely needs to be in your sights. There is no doubting the fact that Tyler Lewis is…

A major talent.

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Follow Tyler Lewis

PHOTO CREDIT: Massimiliano Giorgeschi

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/tylerlwsmusic/

TikTok:

https://www.tiktok.com/@tylerlwsmusic

Twitter:

https://x.com/tylerlwsmusic

Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/6GYUZI5gXIfKpZ3xJtTv7p?si=bnE3_UwrQH6LkYH1cLKOQQ

YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQokC5zfFEVuC5_fyxzHmRQ

FEATURE: Man’s World: Why the Music Industry Should Be a United Voice in Highlighting Violence Against Women

FEATURE:

 

 

Man’s World

PHOTO CREDIT: MART PRODUCTION/Pexels

Why the Music Industry Should Be a United Voice in Highlighting Violence Against Women

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THIS week has seen…

PHOTO CREDIT: MART PRODUCTION/Pexels

some truly horrific things. Not only on a global scale. Earlier this week, Kyle Clifford murdered three women with a crossbow in Bushey. It was an event that shocked the nation. It is, sadly, not surprising. There is a rise in misogyny. It is a misogynistic world. One still run by men. Where the most violence, extreme behaviour and horrendous crimes are committed by them. We are in a position where women cannot feel safe. Whether online or in real life, women are made to feel threatened, sexualised, endangered and vulnerable. That has been the way for a while. It is a time when things are especially bad. Another thing that happened this week was the release of a new Katy Perry track (11th July), Woman’s World. That is not the bad part. What is bad and hugely upsetting is how she worked with producer Dr Luke. Infamous and disgraced for being accused by Kesha of emotional abuse and sexual assault in 2014. There is no good reason for any artist to work with him. Someone who is clearly misoogntic and abusive, role models like Katy Perry are sending a bad message to fans. Not a great example. Like she almost overlooks his character and what he is accused of. It also brings into spotlight men in the industry who are dangerous and should not be allowed to continue. There are so many like Dr Luke who are violent and abusive towards women. We can see how there is this incredible amount of toxicity, abuse and violence against women. It seems to have increased. Whether that is because of misogynistic influencers and their impact or this almost unpoliced social media where poisonous and nasty men can unleash their misogyny and abuse towards women.

It is not only online where this happens. On the street and behind closed doors, there are so many cases of coercion, sexual assault, abuse, violence and bullying. Psychological and physical torment and suffering aimed at women. It is appalling, unacceptable and a very sad reflection on the modern world. How those calling out these men and the rise in misogyny are often women. How there are relatively few male allies (though there are a few out there). So many women in music face abuse and misogyny. Some daily. Many others have experienced violence or are threatened with it. The case of Katy Perry working with Dr Luke is not something to be taken lightly. Such a powerful artist with so many young and impressionable fans, someone who is about empowerment and liberation should not be working with a producer whose mindset and behaviour is very much the opposite. Someone who seemingly has very little respect for women’s safety and rights. This week is just another nail in a coffin. The industry as a whole should be speaking out and united. Speaking out against violence and misogyny women face. The rise in violent behaviour, misogyny and abuse online and offline should be reflected not only in songs and albums that highlight this. We need to put a focus on those who write about this and hold talks. Who campaign and work to make women feel safer. There needs to be more male allyship and greater volume for them. It is so important that they are active. I am not sure whether charities and bodies could combine. This seems like a time of crisis. Whether it is something like a respected and enormous female artist collaborating with a very controversial and dangerous man, or cases of violence against women happening around the world, it is such a frightening time. You do not have to look too deep into the music industry to see how women are treated. How so many are in constant fear. Receiving abuse and threats. Many experiencing male violence first-hand.

PHOTO CREDIT: Mustafa ezz/Pexels

Violence and misogyny has been glorified for decades in various corners of music. Not just reserved to Rap and Hip-Hop, we still have to see and hear so many songs and artists singing about unspeakable and horrifying things. Almost sermonising and romanticising violence against women. Artists like Diddy in the news for violence and abuse. Although we should condemn and ban music that glorifies domestic violence, there are not those sort of barriers and policies in place. The industry’s powerful and influencers doing nothing. Women still seen as second-class or inferior. If there are small steps made against gender imbalance, when it comes to misogyny and sexual abuse, even governments are not doing enough. There is a case that any music that includes images of committing violence and abuse against women should be banned. It still happens right across the spectrum. So many male artists creating very dangerous narratives and music. How this can influence listeners and then create this wave. A violent mindset and attitude that is extremely hard to break and dissuade. It may seem like an impossible task preventing violence against women. So many women in the music industry experienced violence and abuse. Artists and those in music can make a difference and have this powerful voice. From music that is that discusses this issue and the rise of misogyny to making documentaries and running campaigns, now is a time when action needs to be taken. Collectively. The rise of violence against women and the growth of misogyny is something that needs to…

PHOTO CREDIT: cottonbro studio/Pexels

STOP for good.

FEATURE: Oh to Be in Love: How Easy Is it to Spread the Kate Bush Word to the Younger Generations in 2024?

FEATURE:

Oh to Be in Love

How Easy Is it to Spread the Kate Bush Word to the Younger Generations in 2024?

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I have said it a few times…

PHOTO CREDIT: Rex Features

but, as Kate Bush has enjoyed a new resurgence and is being talked about again more, I do wonder how her music will sustain and keep reaching through the generations. There was that moment when Stranger Things brought Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) to the wider audience. A big chart success, it did mean that the younger generations got to hear Kate Bush for the first time. That was one of the shocking things about the situation. Many people, up until that moment in 2022, did not know who Kate Bush was! It might be a surprise to some but, as there is so much focus on modern and new artists, legacy artists might pass people by. It took a popular series on Netflix to bring that one song to the population. It was fairly popular before, though Stranger Things took it to new heights. There was a bit of a ripple and conversation after that. Look at streaming sites and other Kate Bush songs picked up numbers. Other Kate Bush songs have featured in films and T.V. There is definitely more awareness of her in America. I think that it is nice that she is very much still active in terms of her music. She has made updates to her official website and there have been reissues. Her albums being reissued for independent record stores would have attracted new ears. The combined impact of the Stranger Things effect and people covering Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was a big help. Also, Kate Bush was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame last year.

I do wonder what happens next. There was a lot of buzz and new fans coming Kate Bush’s way through 2022 and 2023. You can only get so much momentum and legacy from streaming sites. Radio stations, as I keep saying, play the hits and do not go deeper. Radio as a way of discovering music is less relevant and popular than it used to be. One big reason why Kate Bush was such a sensation and won legions of fans through the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s was because of radio and its impact. Music television. The print media too. More traditional sources made it easier for her music to reach a lot of people quickly. It is vital that there is much more awareness of Kate Bush among younger listeners. The core fanbase, largely, are over twenty. I think that is a fair assumption. It may be older than that. When it comes to those who listen to her music most and have been fans for a long time, they do the best they can to make sure Kate Bush is known and discussed. I do worry about this sort of brief explosion that might then fade. People a lot younger than me either know Kate Bush through Stranger Things or not at all. That is their reference point. That is not to say they have heard the song or any others. I wonder how many listeners from Generations Y and Z dive deep or listen to multiple Kate Bush songs. Despite healthy video and streaming figures, there is a gap. So many who are not aware of Kate Bush and her importance. How easy is it to keep Kate Bush in the mindset for years to come?!

PHOTO CREDIT: Gered Mankowitz

It is hard for many new artists to gain a foothold in such a competitive market. We have some artists dominating. Really huge names. It is not the case that legacy artists get overlooked. They can pull people in because of new albums, touring and documentaries. Things that mean their name is out there. Expanded editions of albums that mean they can appeal to the existing fanbase and draw in new fans. Kate Bush is not in that position. She is not going to perform live again. We do not know whether she will release another album. In terms of documentaries, pieces about her and anything else, it is very much in her hands. I keep an eye on radio playlists and streaming sites like Spotify. I try and ensure that I do my part to let people know how amazing Kate Bush is. There are articles and magazine features published now and then. Those who already know Kate Bush and her catalogue do not need to be won over. There are so many listeners either very casually connected to Kate Bush or they do now know her at all. That is a worry! It means that, decades from now, the fanbase will become smaller and more narrow in terms of tastes – and the Kate Bush songs listened to. That spark of discovery is so vital. Not just hearing one song from Kate Bush. Going back to the beginning – 1978’s The Kick Inside – and working your way forward. Listening to each album. Reading interviews and watching videos. The feeling that so many people are unaware of a lot of joy and brilliance. It is frustrating that so many people do not know about Kate Bush. Perhaps their parents do not have her albums on vinyl. That sort of sharing culture does not happen the way it does when I was young.

Streaming platforms will not lead people to Kate Bush. It cannot merely be down to fans to try and recruit people. Radio stations do play her music but, if they are songs people have already heard, does this compel them to discover more about Kate Bush?! I am not too sure. What I know is that we have a real issue where there are blank faces. People in their teens, twenties and thirties who have escapes the allure of Kate Bush. These are people that we need to bring in. It is not easy to get an artist like Kate Bush across the generations and keep her in hearts and minds. Even though she is a genius. One of the greatest artists ever. Given how influential she is and how many millions of people she has enriched, I think she is owed more. More diverse and consistent airplay. I suppose TikTok sees fans share videos with her music scoring it. Many people are not on TikTok. We have various threads and fanbases that are not coming together and will probably lose heat as the years pass. Even if Kate Bush does not release more music, it is paramount she is remembered by younger listeners so, when they grow older, they can tell young generations coming through about her. There should be a collective effort. From artists to long-terms fans to those picking up her music now. Such a special artist, it is hard to give Kate Bush the same sort of space as major artists still recording. We can’t really rely on shows like Stranger Things to get Kate Bush’s music to younger music fans. It baffles me there are some who are not aware of Kate Bush. I guess that is the problem with how we experience and discover music today. I am not sure what the answer is. All I do know is the blessed and mighty Kate Bush should be known, loved, shared, listened to and inspiring…

FOR decades to come.

FEATURE: Stationery: Will the Narrative Regarding Women on Playlists Ever Change?

FEATURE:

 

 

Stationery

PHOTO CREDIT: Alex Green/Pexels

Will the Narrative Regarding Women on Playlists Ever Change?

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THERE was some positive news…

quite recently when The Gender & Racial Disparity Data Report by Why Not Her? was published. It explored gender and racial disparity in U.K. radio. Included in the findings was the Top 100 Radio Airplay songs by gender/ethnicity, the Top 100 Songwriters and the Top 20 most played songs. For the first time, we saw equality and balance across many major stations. The BBC especially ensured that the top twenty songs on their playlists included women. It was a step forward from previous years. You can read the report here. It was good news that you thought would inspire sider change. I know it is impossible to collate this information. In terms of looking at the gender breakdown across all playlists for the past year. Every song that is included. You would find that there is hardly any gender equality present. Even big stations like BBC Radio 2 and BBC Radio 6 Music have so many programmes where the playlists are male-heavy. I am not sure how much progress has been made over the past year or so. With each passing month, we are getting incredible albums and singles from female artists. So many of the best and most interesting artists coming through are women. I know I have written about this and made these points. Things are not really changing. Even if the most popular songs played feature more women - as the recent gender and racial disparity report findings spotlighted, there are stations who are still struggling to include women. Some include no women at all in their top twenty songs! Others are incredibly poor when it came to the top one-hundred. If people may roll their eyes at my writing about this subject once more, that is because there is no movement. Stations seem to have this male bias. I can’t think of a single radio station that is doing enough!

Esch day, I look through playlists of programmes across several stations. Rarely do you see occasions where women are equal or the dominant force. Very few stations have a day of programming where female artists are in the majority. Almost this fear that this would be too much! That a fifty-fifty split is the best they have to do. Almost this forced compromise. That is as far as they can go. I think that there needs to be reasoning from stations. If nobody complains and there is not this outcry, then why would they change and improve?! I guess most listeners have that male bias too, or else they feel there is nothing they can do to make things better. Why do people not do more?! If you look at the music industry at large, there are very few male allies. Very few active voices standing with women and asking for more. It does seem a shame. This imbalance still runs through most festivals and areas of music. If there are steps happening there, things are not moving as fast as they should. Like radio, there are particular venues, festivals and sections where things are still favourable to men. Like they are the superior force and dominate music. An incorrect assumption through media that there is gender equality and proper movement. I don’t think that this is the case. It would be very easy to change things immediately!

PHOTO CREDIT: Brett Sayles/Pexels

Things do need to get better. Rather than stations doing little things and ensuring that their most-played songs feature gender equality, there has to be this consideration right across playlists. If you were to total the songs through all the major stations in a week and then break it down by gender, you would find men are still very much at the top. This does not reflect quality or the truth of modern music. When you realise that most of the best albums are being made by women, what justification is there for things being skewed towards male acts?! Is it a case of things have always been that way so why change?! Do stations think that little resistance means they do not have to look at themselves?! Maybe they truly believe that male artists have always been the dominant force so their playlists are fair. It is disappointing to constantly listen to stations where playlists could easily be balanced or put women in front but aren’t. If we want to see women represented, heard and feel valued, then every station needs to do a lot more! The issue is that they won’t. I do get the feeling that old ways die hard. That one step forward on some stations is met with static elsewhere. There needs to be this national movement to ensure, like festivals, that radio playlists are balanced. I don’t think anyone can name a major station that has already achieved this. It is jarring against a music scene where women dominate and have been for a very long time. What will it take to move the dial?! Short of more discussion and backlash from those in the industry – especially men -, I can’t see any real good news. We will see the same problems every year. It is a disservice to women putting them…

PHOTO CREDIT: Anthony 🙂/Pexels

IN the minority.

FEATURE: Kate Bush’s Smoky and Sensual Take: The Man I Love at Thirty

FEATURE:

 

Kate Bush’s Smoky and Sensual Take

The Man I Love at Thirty

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I have written about this song…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1993/PHOTO CREDIT: John Stoddart

a few times in the past. A deep cut and one of her finest cover versions, The Man I Love showed a side of Kate Bush that was not explored too much more. After 1993’s The Red Shoes, Bush backed away from the spotlight a bit. After the relatively mixed response to the album and the short film, The Line, the Cross and the Curve, there was a sense that she needed a break. Perhaps at a time when she was trying to keep busy and distracted after the death of her mother in 1992, Bush was in need of downtime and personal space. Few knew that 1993 would be the last time until 2005 when she was properly active and releasing a new album. She did do the odd thing between 1993 and 2005. There were singles and personal appearance. For the most part, Bush was spending more time at home and building a family. In the same year as the final single from The Red Shoes came out, Bush contributed to a very special album. The Red Shoes’ title track came out in April 1994. The final single, And So Is Love, was released in November 1994. Between then, Bush released The Man I Love. On 18th July, this amazing rendition went into the world. As it is thirty very soon, I wanted to explore it a bit more. The Man I Love is a standard with music by George Gershwin and lyrics by his brother Ira. It was part of the 1924 score for the Gershwin musical comedy Lady, Be Good. However, the song was removed from that show and instead placed into the Gershwins' 1927 satire, Strike Up the Band. Kate Bush recorded her version of this song for The Glory of Gershwin, with Larry Adler on harmonica. The single was released about a month before the album came out. Bush had contributed to tribute albums before. In 1991, she released her version of Rocket Man (I Think It’s Going to Be a Long, Long Time) for Two Rooms: Celebrating the Songs of Elton John & Bernie Taupin. She gave that song a Reggae tinge. She also recorded Mná na hÉireann, for an album called Common Ground – Voices of Modern Irish Music that was released in 1996.

After the release of The Red Shoes, there was this feeling that Bush had freedom to engage in other projects. Whether it was a charity single or contributing to albums with other artists, it allowed her opportunity to expand and show different aspects of her voice and personality. I think that The Man I Love is one of her smokiest and most beautiful vocals. Here is an article that sources a quote where Bush discussed working on The Man I Love with the late Larry Adler:

“Kate about ‘The Man I Love’

This romantic song was written by George and Ira Gershwin and when Larry Adler put an album together of their songs, called The Glory of Gershwin, he asked me to sing this beautiful song. The album was produced by George Martin. I was very fond of George – such a special talent and creative spirit, a really gentle man, very kind and incredibly interesting. It was a great honour to work with him and Larry.  George and Larry were very different personalities (Larry was a real character), but they made a great creative combination.

It was released as a single and Kevin Godley directed the video. I loved working with Kevin –  so imaginative and great fun. I’d worked with him and Lol Creme when they directed the video for Peter Gabriel’s song, Don’t Give Up. Kevin chose to present the video in a very traditional way which suited the song extremely well.  Godley and Creme are huge talents who left their mark not just in the music industry with their intelligence and wit in the band 10CC but also in the visual world with their groundbreaking videos, working with an impressive list of diverse artists”.

It wouldn’t have really sounded like anything that was released in 1994. This was a few weeks before Oasis broke through with their debut album. That said, it did reach number twenty-two in the U.K. The Red Shoes reached twenty-one in the U.K. And So Is Love hit twenty-six . Bush was still in the top thirty and releasing singles that connected with the public. The Man I Love was released as a 7″ single, and a cassette single. It also came out in a range of C.D. singles.. All of the releases formats featured the title track and an edit of Rhapsody in Blue as performed by Larry Adler and George Martin.

It is intriguing what could have been if Kate Bush had explored that side of her voice on an album. 2005’s Aerial and 2011’s 50 Words for Snow had deeper and smoky voice. Not really with that sort of Jazz backing. A chance for Bush to step back in time and submit herself to the smoke and sensory overload of that time. Everything in black-and-white. The video was shot in black-and-white. Bush slowly walking around a set as Larry Adler plays harmonica. She looks enticing, intriguing and beautiful throughout. Kevin Godley’s video is brilliant! As I said, 1994 was a strange and changing year. Bush still engaged on the scene and releasing music, though she was moving away. Sort of hand-picking what she wanted to do. There were various bits of activity regarding her own music, yet it was the final year for almost a decade when she would be quite busy still. The allure of contributing to an album of George and Ira Gershwin songs was a nice break. Something different. A stunning take of a song many Kate Bush fans might not have known, she proved how amazing an interpreter she is. Think about the range of cover versions she performed and how varied they were. In every case, making the song her own - rather than a straight and faithful rendition. I am not sure how many people know about Kate Bush’s cover of The Man I Love. Such a bold and brave step, she is this artist who is fearless and almost effortless stepping into different genres and shoes. Such a natural talent who can make a song as relatively obscure as The Man I Love sound so urgent and almost modern. Even if it was worlds away from what was being released in 1994, it somehow fits. There is an essence and vibe to it that makes it timeless. On 18th July, it will be thirty years since Kate Bush’s version of The Man I Love was released. Her simply remarkable take is so…

STUNNING and moving.

FEATURE: One for the Record Collection! Essential August Releases

FEATURE:

 

One for the Record Collection!

IN THIS PHOTO: beabadoobee

Essential August Releases

_________

THERE are ten or eleven or so…

IN THIS PHOTO: Sabrina Carpenter

albums from August that I wanted to recommend. Future release that I think people should pre-order and invest in. The best albums of the month come in the second half. Let’s start with 16th August. You can see everything out in August here. There is nothing I want to spotlight from 2nd or 9th August. The second half of the month is packed. On 16th August, beabadoobee releases This Is How Tomorrow Moves. The amazing and acclaimed artist is one of our best Pop talents. I think that people should check out this incredible record. Released through Dirty Hit, you can pre-order the album here. I think that This Is How Tomorrow Moves is going to be among the year’s best and most acclaimed albums:

“This Is How Tomorrow Moves is the third album from artist beabadoobee, recorded at Shangri-La in Malibu with renowned producer Rick Rubin and released on her long-standing label, Dirty Hit. This Is How Tomorrow Moves captures beabadoobee's confidence and introspection, with themes of self-acceptance and personal growth woven throughout. It stands as a testament to her artistic evolution and resilience, marking a significant milestone in her career”.

Apologies for a lack of real depth and information regarding new albums. I usually source Rough Trade UK and what they say about an album. Sometimes, you get depth and words that really give an insight into the album. Sometimes, they keep it to a few lines. I know it may not be that useful, though I would appreciate people do some digging and investigation. You can see I am padding again because, when it comes to the next album, they have not expended too much energy exploring and explaining the album. It is understandable, though it would be nice to get more background and information. I am referring to Charli Bliss and their forthcoming album, Forever. You can pre-order the album now:

“New York pop savants Charly Bliss want their new album Forever to crush you under the weight of pure feeling. They want to sweep you up in a hurricane of heartbreak. They want you to pour your soul out singing along at their shows and alone in your bedroom. In short, says singer Eva Hendricks, they want to destroy you...but in a fun way.

Produced by Jake Luppen (Hippo Campus) and Caleb Wright (Samia) along with the band’s Sam Hendricks, Forever follows five years after their critically acclaimed 2019 album Young Enough. Full of the band’s biggest, brightest batch of power pop yet Forever crams a lifetime of feeling, decades of friendship, and years of craft into a batch of sonically tight but emotionally vast songs that activate the pleasure centres in your brain whether you’re listening alone in your headphones or in a packed room at a live show. The songs shimmer and burst, the way fireworks look like they should sound”.

There are a couple of other 16th August releases before I move into 23rd and 30th. I want to direct people to Hamish Hawk’s new album, A Firmer Hand. You can pre-order it here. Maybe you are new to his work. I would recommend people listen to Hamish Hawk. He is an incredible artist whose music you need in your life. It sounds like A Firmer Hand is going to rank alongside his best work:

“Writing this album, I opened up my closet, and a skeleton came out.” In a café just around the corner from his Edinburgh flat, Hamish Hawk is contemplating his extraordinary new record, A Firmer Hand. “The thing that links all of the songs is a sense of the unsaid, whether out of guilt, shame, repression, embarrassment, coyness, whatever it might have been. I realised: I am going to say these things, and not all of them are going to make me look good. The album made so many demands, and I just gave myself over to it.”

At this stage, where only a handful of close associates have heard the finished album, Hawk is still unsure of what the reaction might be from fans, critics, even family. He jokes that A Firmer Hand is the first of his records that his parents might not enjoy. “But the fact that it makes me nervous tells me it was the right thing to do.

It takes only a couple of listens to be sure that it was a risk worth taking. And just a couple more to determine that A Firmer Hand is the best and boldest record Hamish Hawk has delivered to date. “It’s a bit of a coming of age record,” he says. And a record for the ages”.

Before moving onto 23rd August, I want to bring to people’s attention Pom Poko. A wonderful band, they release Champion on 16th August. You can pre-order the album. I think that it is going to turn out to be a real gem. Something you should consider purchasing. I am fairly new to the band, but I have been impressed by everything they have put out. They are incredibly talented and original. One of the smaller acts I am spotlighting in this feature, yet they are well worth listening to:

“Pom Poko is a Norwegian band renowned for their eclectic blend of indie rock, punk, and pop sensibilities.

Formed in Trondheim in 2016, the quartet consists of Ragnhild Fangel, Martin Miguel Tonne, Ola Djupvik, and Jonas Krovel. Since their inception, they've released two critically acclaimed albums and mesmerizing live performances, solidifying their status as one of Norway's most exciting musical exports.

Their third album Champion features their dynamic soundscapes, characterized by energetic rhythms, intricate guitar work, and Fangel's distinctive vocals, which have garnered widespread acclaim. With influences ranging from art-rock to jazz, Pom Poko's music defes genre boundaries, delivering a fresh and innovative sonic experience. Speaking of the record, the band said... "This record is a kind of experiment to see what happens when the four of us in Pom Poko make music without any input from the world around us, from the frst idea of a song until the last note is recorded. This time, we've recorded and produced absolutely everything ourselves, a process that has been surprisingly comfortable. With this album, we landed, almost unconsciously, on the fact that the songs needed more space and less fussiness in the production than what we've been drawn to before”.

Let’s move on to 23rd August. There are four albums out this week that I want to get to. The first is Fontaines D.C.’s Romance. A sensational band that played Glastonbury last month, there is going to be a lot of interest around their fourth studio album. You can pre-order it now. They are a band who are going to have a very long and successful future:

“Fontaines D.C. release their highly-anticipated fourth album, Romance. Released via XL Recordings, Romance is the band’s first album with producer James Ford and is without doubt their most assured, inventive and sonically adventurous record yet. It’s set to build on the success of the Dublin-made, now London-based band’s acclaimed 2022 album Skinty Fia, which reached number 1 in the UK and Irish album charts and saw the band receiving a host of accolades including “International Group of the Year” at the 2023 Brit Awards.

Heralding Fontaines D.C.’s latest creative (r)evolution is the explosive lead single “Starburster”. Inspired by a panic attack lead singer Grian Chatten suffered in London’s St Pancras station, the song is punctuated by sharp feral intakes of breath. Its propulsive beat and unrelenting lyrics establish self-destruction as fantasy before a brief moment of sobering clarity when the drums fall away and Chatten moves from spitting, almost-rap into an almost-psalm, his baritone rich and dreamy. It’s accompanied by a cinematic music video from director Aube Perrie (Megan Thee Stallion, Harry Styles, The Hives) that captures the song’s cathartic intensity to brilliant effect.

Romance is Fontaines D.C.s most ambitious, expansive record yet, its 11 tracks constellating ideas that have been percolating among Grian Chatten (vocals), Carlos O’Connell (guitar), Conor Curley (guitar), Conor Deegan (bass), and Tom Coll (drums) since they released Skinty Fia in 2022. These ideas crystalised while touring the U.S. and Mexico with Arctic Monkeys as the five band members shared music and found a throughline with artists that deftly build out their own sprawling creative worlds: the attitude and aesthetic sheen of artists like Shygirl and Sega Bodega, the bolshy sonic palettes of hip hop and heavy metal, Mos Def, A$AP Ferg, OutKast and Korn. They had time apart to build more singular visions for what future music could be: O’Connell went to Spain’s Castile-La Mancha and later became a new father, while Chatten spent time in LA, and Deegan in Paris. They laid deeper roots in London. Each member spent time pushing their boundaries – experimental riffs, chord progressions, and far-flung lyrical references without intentions for a record. After wrapping up the US arena tour in Autumn 2023, they spent a month writing together again, three weeks of pre-production in a North London studio, and a month in a chateau close to Paris, sleeping among studio equipment, completely immersed.

The sonic evolution of the band, who bared their teeth in early records with antagonistic punk sensibilities, is an ascent into grungier breaks, dystopian electronica, hip-hop percussion, and dreamy Slowdive-esque textures that may surprise fans. The shoegaze touchpoints first pressed on Skinty Fia unfold on Romance like a purpling bruise. But any “retro aesthetic”, as Chatten describes it, is left behind. Reflecting on the impending release, Chatten says, “We say things on this record we’ve wanted to say for a long time. I never feel like it's over, but it’s nice to feel lighter.” The fantasy is felt for better or worse, and Fontaines D.C. welcome either end of oblivion”.

An album with scandalously little written about it, Sabrina Carpenter’s Short n' Sweet is well worth ordering. I think that every music fan should seek it out, as Carpenter is one of the finest young artists. You have more buying options here. Before moving on here, this is what Variety said about the roll-out campaign for Short n’ Sweet. This is another album that is going to sit alongside the best of the year. Sabrina Carpenter is a very special artist:

“The songs are strong. But songcraft alone isn’t quite enough in the age of virality, and few have lately proven themselves as adept at surfing the waves of public attention as Carpenter. An early sign, perhaps, was her late-2023 and early-2024 booking as the opening act for Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour in Latin America, Australia, and Asia; the mere fact of the gig was one thing, but Carpenter cannily turned each night into an event. Her single “Nonsense” ends with a slightly blue, rhyming three-line joke, and each night of the tour, she came up with a new one, referencing the language and culture of wherever she was visiting. (To wit, in Buenos Aires: ​​“When I’m in the bedroom I feel sexy / He’s having a ball, he call me Messi / Argentina, will you be my bestie?”) This was showmanship designed less for the stadium crowd than for PopCrave. And it worked, continuing up to her “Saturday Night Live” performance, in which she joked about a guy being “30 Rock hard.”

Something, here, recalls what Katy Perry once referred to as her own “soft-serve sexiness”: It’s a gleefully innocent raunch, delivered with a wink that brings everyone, Carpenter included, in on the joke. (The “Nonsense” outros are either stupidly intelligent or brilliantly dumb, and they’re always delivered with slyness and control.) A key difference with Perry, though, is the overarching sense of strategy and cohesion. Perry, when launching an album — as she’s currently doing, showing up in Paris in a dress with a 100-yard-train bedecked with the lyrics sheet for her next single — will try just about anything. (Most notably, perhaps, was her 96-hour “Big Brother”-style livestream promoting the 2017 album “Witness”: It was a can’t-look-away spectacle that seemed, ultimately, to do little for the music.)

And it’s hard to blame her: For those with lower profiles than Taylor Swift — which is to say, for every other working musician — figuring out the right angle of approach on an album rollout is tricky. In recent months, Dua Lipa pumped out content, live performances, and various pre-launch singles ahead of her new album “Radical Optimism”; Billie Eilish, by contrast, withheld any singles ahead of “Hit Me Hard and Soft.”

For Carpenter, the music has connected so far, but the primary work she’s done has been establishing a persona and not deviating from it. Her tweet celebrating “Please Please Please” hitting No. 1 poked at a music fan who’d said she’d “fumbled a second single.” While there’s a power dynamic at play when an artist complains about their critics by name (and when, resultantly, their fans swarm), her feeling of vindication is understandable, as is the sense that, in a world where people speak with increasing freedom about celebrities, those same celebrities can and will speak back. On a lighter note, Carpenter’s team set up Times Square billboards featuring social-media jokes about the singer’s (diminuitive) height — this felt less like clapping back than acknowledging that she’s aware of, and in on, the joke. Just like the album title says, she’s short and sweet”.

Sporting one of the best album covers of the year, I would advise people to pre-order Sofi Tukker’s BREAD. This may be another act that you are new to. The duo of Sophie Hawley-Weld and Tucker Halpern should be on your radar. Again, there is an unforgivable lack of information about this album. This article provides more information and insight:

“While other artists serve reheated leftovers, SOFI TUKKER are bringing piping hot, preservative-free dance vibes straight from the oven of their imagination.

The acclaimed dance music duo today announced their third studio album BREAD, an acronym for "Be Really Energetic And Dance," a mantra that perfectly encapsulates the infectious energy that courses through their music.

Sophie Hawley-Weld and Tucker Halpern have been whipping up this auditory feast for roughly two years with ingredients like globally-inspired beats, honeyed vocal hooks and a generous helping of unfettered creativity. If their Grammy-nominated past releases are any indication, BREAD is sure to be a sumptuous, multi-layered experience.

BREAD is the duo's first album since 2022's scintillating WET TENNIS. An ode to unrestrained movement, it's scheduled to release on August 23rd and will feature 10 tracks, including collaborations with Channel Tres and Kah-Lo.

For the calorie-conscious, this bread contains no empty carbs—only rich nutrients to fuel dancefloors everywhere. Case in point is "Throw Some Ass," an unapologetic, hip-shaking single out now”.

There are four albums from 30th August I want to discuss. The first is from Jon Hopkins. RITUAL is available to pre-order here. Again, maybe an artist that is new to you. Also again, I would urge people to check him out. His music is like nothing else. You will want to check out this spectacular album:

“By turns devotional, empowering and nurturing, Jon Hopkins’ forthcoming Ritual is a 41-minute electronic symphony built from cavernous subs, hypnotic drumming and transcendent melodic interplay. Tense, immersive and ultimately triumphant, it is a culmination of themes explored throughout his 22-year career, and acts as the kinetic counterpart to 2021’s Music For Psychedelic Therapy.

A single piece unfolding over eight chapters, Ritual is personified by depth and contrast. Taking ceremony, spiritual liberation and the hero's journey as inspiration, it taps into an ancient and primal energy.

Featuring long-term collaborators Vylana, 7RAYS, Ishq, Clark, Emma Smith, Daisy Vatalaro and Cherif Hashizume, Ritual came together within the second half of 2023, but initial seeds were sown in 2022, when Hopkins was commissioned to compose for the stroboscopic Dreamachine experience in London. A project that felt ceremonial from the outset, this shorter piece was the embryo of Ritual, with Hopkins gaining inspiration from the feeling of intention that is inherent in the Dreamachine space.

Ritual is both emotionally and sonically heavy, whilst retaining a warm, live feel, where the juxtaposition between softness and intensity forms the core of the whole. So take time, prepare and immerse in Ritual for 41 minutes of uninterrupted listening: sonic divination of the most potent form”.

On 30th August, Laurie Anderson releases Amelia. You can pre-order the album. The legendary artist releases a really intriguing album. It has this conceptual arc. Even if you are not a overly familiar with Anderson, this is an album that you will really need to order. It sounds like it is going to be phenomenal. Again, there is hardly anything about the album. I hope that websites attach more press and detail about the album because, when you see what is out there at the moment, it does not really tantalise as much as it should. Regardless, I think that Amelia is going to be a terrific album that you will want to add to your collection:

“Nonesuch Records releases Laurie Anderson’s Amelia, the 2024 Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award recipient's first new album since 2018’s Grammy-winning Landfall.

The record comprises 22 tracks about renowned female aviator Amelia Earhart’s tragic last flight.

Anderson, who Pitchfork says, ‘sees the future, but she starts by paying attention’, wrote the music and lyrics for this subjective narrative piece.

On the album, she is joined by the Czech orchestra Filharmonie Brno, conducted by Dennis Russell Davies, and Anohni, Gabriel Cabezas, Rob Moose, Ryan Kelly, Martha Mooke, Marc Ribot, Tony Scherr, Nadia Sirota, and Kenny Wolleson”.

Two more albums to cover the month. Los Bitchos’ Talkie Talkie is one I am looking forward to. A band I have been a fan of for a long time now, they are set to shake things up this summer. You should really go and order this album. Los Bitchos have such an exciting and distinct sound. With their fanbase growing around the world, this is a time that you need to get on board. There are more words available album, Talkie Talkie. It gives you plenty to chew over:

“If Los Bitchos’ electrifying 2022 debut album Let the Festivities Begin! Was the rowdy build up to the big night out, then Talkie Talkie is the Technicolour explosion of the dancefloor. Made up of lead guitarist Serra, who carries both Australian and Turkish heritage, Uruguayan synth and keytar player Agustina Ruiz, Swedish bassist Josefine Jonsson and British drummer Nic Crawshaw, the group are united by a commitment to having fun. It’s a contagious energy they’ve had no problem transmitting to the world: since the band officially arrived in 2019 with two sell-out 7" singles, they marked themselves as one of London’s brightest bands to watch. Since then, they’ve found a home in beloved indie label City Slang, ripped stages across the most coveted stages the globe over (such as Glastonbury and Coachella, as well as supporting Pavement and King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard), and radiated the verve of their personalities and cultures through their exploratory take on rock’n’roll. The London-based quartet’s new album is glistening with charisma, sonic experimentation and a puckish spirit. Named after a fictional club of the same name Talkie Talkie is a late-night paradise brimming with freedom and possibility; a place where partygoers can escape reality in the dance or daydream along to the invigorating soundscapes.

Los Bitchos promise to turn the global indie rock scene upside down in 2024!”.

One of the biggest and most anticipated albums of this year comes from Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Wild God is an album that everyone should order. An iconic band who have been making music together for decades now, they show no signs of slowing down or dipping in quality. Their forthcoming album is looking like it will sit alongside their very best of recent times. I think that Wild God will be among the most celebrated and highest-reviewed albums of the year:

“Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds are back after a five-year break with their new album Wild God! Across ten tracks, the band dances between convention and experimentation, taking left turns and detours that enhance the rich imagery and emotion in Cave's heartfelt narratives. There are moments that fondly recall the Bad Seeds' past, but they are fleeting and only serve to add another facet to the band's relentless and restless forward momentum. Nick Cave says of the album: "It bursts out of the speaker, and I get swept up with it. It's a complicated record, but it's also deeply and joyously infectious."

Produced by Cave and Warren Ellis and mixed by David Fridmann, Cave began writing the album on New Year's Day 2023. Recording in Provence and London, the Bad Seeds finally added their unique alchemy, with additional appearances from Colin Greenwood (bass) and Luis Almau (nylon string guitar, acoustic guitar).

"Wild God...there's no fucking around with this record. When it hits, it hits. It lifts you. It moves you. I love that about it." - Nick Cave”.

Even though most of the best albums of next month are in the second half, there might be a few from the first half that you’ll want to buy. I do feel that more happens in the second half of the month. There are a lot of interesting albums due. From beabadoobee to Los Bitchos through to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, there is a little bit of something for everyone. If you need some guides as to which August albums are worth getting, I hope that the above is useful. September looks even more busy and interesting. Even so, there is more than enough brilliant music out next month…

THAT you’ll want to check out.

FEATURE: Groovelines: The Cars - Drive

FEATURE:

 

Groovelines

The Cars - Drive

_________

FOR this Groovelines…

I am zeroing in on a song that turns forty soon. On 23rd July, 1984, The Cars released Drive. The third single from the band’s fifth studio album, Heartbeat City, it is one of their defining moments. I am going to come to a couple of features which explore Drive more closely. One of the greatest tracks of the 1980s, it still sounds emotional, affecting and epic forty years later. Written by The Cars’ lead, Ric Ocasek, Drive was sung by bassist Benjamin Orr and produced by Robert John ‘Mutt’ Lange and The Cars. Drive reached number three in the U.S. However, as I shall illustrate later, Drive is maybe better associated with 1985’s Live Aid. It was sung by Benjamin Orr during the Philadelphia event. After featuring in such a high-profile and worldwide event, Drive re-entered the U.K. chart at number four. Proceeds from the sales of the re-released song raised nearly £160,000 for the Band Aid Trust. There is this legacy for the song that transcends chart positions or an album. It became part of something so much wider and bigger. Even though the lyrics of Drive doesn’t really relate to Ethiopian famine and hunger, I guess the emotional pull and something in the song made it appropriate for stirring the senses. It clearly worked. Among facts associated with the song, one is that Paul McCartney highlighted Drive as an influence on 1986’s album Press to Play. Even if that album is underrated, it shows how stirring and powerful it is if the greatest songwriter and musician in history is compelled to follow it and emulate its sound. Before getting to a feature from American Songwriter, this feature, written in 2020, talks about how The Cars’ Drive played a big part in 1985’s Live Aid:

“Floating over majestic waves of alluring electronica, bassist Benjamin Orr’s beautifully nuanced, emotionally-charged vocal performance is note-perfect for the haunted vibe of the song. And let’s be honest, as great as Ocasek was, his arch, often mannered Bowiesque vocal affections just wouldn’t have worked here.

So it’s more than a little ironic Drive was recorded at the former Morgan Studios in London’s Willesden High Road where the Major Tom one had recorded Space Oddity a decade and a half earlier.

Poignant and pointed, Drive’s lyrics seem to be asking someone whose life is going downhill fast, to honestly examine their situation and take their foot off the gas before it’s too late.

Moreover, the opinion Rolling Stone offered when the song was released, in a perceptive review, suggested a “subnarrative of love and drug addiction” running through Heartbeat City, which lines up with Drive.

Searching questions like “Whose gonna pick you up/When you fall?”; Who’s gonna plug their ears/When you scream?”; and “Whose gonna hold you down/When you shake?” all suggest someone in the throes of drug addiction and withdrawal.

Drive’s atmospheric, almost dreamlike quality was reflected in the Timothy Hutton-directed video that featured the Czech model Paulina Porizkova, then just a teenager. Meeting her future husband on the set in New York’s Astoria Studios, she would become Ocasek’s widow upon his death in 2019.

With MTV giving the clip constant rotation, Drive was propelled to No. 3 in the US and No. 5 in the UK in September of ’84. However, there was an even more dramatic film that would seal the song’s legacy when the organisers of the Live Aid transatlantic charity concert used it to soundtrack footage of starving Ethiopian children, in a move that the archangel Gabriel will explain on the Day of Judgment.

Actually I can do that for you right now.

When Drive was coupled with a disturbing video of African famine victims and shown on the big screens at Live Aid in Wembley Stadium and JFK Stadium in Philadelphia and around the world it had a gigantic impact on people. And it was all thanks to David Bowie.

As well as his 20-minute main set, Bowie was also appearing that day in a specially recorded video of Dancing In The Street with Mick Jagger, and part of the chorus helping Paul McCartney through Let It Be, and leading the all-star finale of Do They Know It’s Christmas? during the London finale. He felt the onus was on him to sacrifice part of his allotted set time to introduce a certain video that had moved him to tears.

In a terrapin hut backstage before the concert, “Sir” Bob Geldof, the show’s organiser-in-chief, had shown David a film compiled from newsreel footage of the Ethiopian famine, shot by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, even though he was refusing to allow the video to be shown due to time constraints. The Boomtown Rats singer only relented when Bowie, who had the unenviable task of following his erstwhile Under Pressure partners Freddie Mercury and Queen on to the Wembley stage, offered to drop a song from his main set as a trade-off.

“Bowie was sobbing … he says, ‘I want to drop a song and introduce this’.”

Received wisdom is that the song Bowie cut to make way for the CBC clip was the opening track from Ziggy Stardust, the apocalyptic Five Years, largely repeating a claim that Geldof’s wife and Tube presenter Paula Yates made on a Channel 4 documentary later that year. However, Thomas Dolby and the late Matthew Seligman, two members of Bowie’s hastily assembled bright young things on the day, have both assured me in the past that although Loving The Alien was actually rehearsed on the first day, the sacrificial lamb come showtime was actually Fascination, from 1974’s pseudo soul set Young Americans.

Excerpted from an interview I conducted with the seminal synthmeister himself in 2013, the indeed very brilliant Thomas Dolby takes up the story of a fluid, fluctuating set list.

“David would keep changing his mind about what songs to do. He initially wanted to do his current single, Loving The Alien, but as he got focused on what the event was he realised that it wasn’t about promoting your current single. Because he was shooting Labyrinth, we only had four short rehearsals in the evenings, and each time he would change his mind about what we should do. So we only settled on the four songs that we did on the last day.”

Sure enough, as the band left the stage Bowie announced, “Lest we forget why we’re here. I’d like to introduce a video made by CBC Television, the subject speaks for itself. Please send your money in.” [cue toothy grin.]

The devastating montage chronicling the human toll of the ongoing famine in Ethiopia, set to the melancholic soundtrack of Drive, was shown to the stadium audiences in London and Philadelphia, as well as on televisions around the world* (though, inexplicably, neither of the two US feeds from ABC or MTV chose to show the film). The rate of donations became faster in the immediate aftermath of the video, and

it remains one of the abiding images of Live Aid, which Geldof readily acknowledges.

“That tape was the turn-around moment in the entire event. More money was pledged immediately after its transmission than at any other time during the concert.”

Bowie told British radio: “I thought it was a very important piece of footage… the point wasn’t to promote singles, the point was to bring awareness to the situation.”

As well as that memorable impression of such a beautifully mournful song incongruously but effectively played against such heartbreaking footage was The Cars’ actual performance in Philadelphia, which came several hours later”.

I am interested in Drive and how it came to life. Whereas most associate The Cars with more upbeat songs like My Best Friend’s Girl and Just What I Needed, I think their most poignant and finest moment is Drive. The final feature I am highlighting is from American Songwriter. Forty years after its release, I feel Drive sounds like nothing else. It turns forty very soon. If you are unfamiliar with the track, then do give it a listen now. It transcends tastes and age. It is a song that will hit the heart instantly:

“Unlike “You Might Think” and “Magic,” the turbo-charged hits that preceded it as singles from The Cars smash ’84 album Heartbeat City, “Drive” was a ballad. And while those other two songs were sung by Ocasek, who wrote all the Cars material, he gave “Drive” over to bassist Benjamin Orr to sing.

Orr, who sang on previous Cars hits like “Just What I Needed” and “Let’s Go”, was the wise choice. Ocasek had a knack for putting a wry, ironic spin on his lyrics, but “Drive” demanded tenderness and emotional connection to the words. In an era where histrionics and affectations often passed for singing, the lonely ache in the bassist’s voice haunted and captivated listeners.

The lyrics are a series of questions asked to an unnamed girl, a songwriting tactic that harkens back to classics like “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” When asked in the right sequence with varying levels of intensity, these questions can create a thorough character sketch in very short strokes, which is what Ocasek pulls off brilliantly here.

Subtle shadings in Orr’s delivery vary the narrator’s demeanor with each question. At times he shows the sympathy of a friend, one who’s genuinely concerned for the girl’s well-being. At others he seems more like a jilted suitor, frustrated with her inability to see the figurative cliff she’s fast approaching. By the end, he just seems resigned to the sad fact that the common answer to all of his questions about who will save her is a resounding “no one.”

Only at the end of each verse does the narrator step back and offer some advice, saying You can’t go on/Thinking nothing’s wrong. The specific questions, from sympathetic like Who’s gonna pick you up when you fall? to more pointed queries like Who’s gonna pay attention to your dreams?, lead to the one that she can’t answer, that he can’t answer, that will haunt them both now and forever, Who’s gonna drive you home tonight?

Synthesizers, so often garishly utilized in that era, soften the blow here, as do the ghostly sighs of the backing vocalists. The rhythm sways at slow-dance pace, although this is the kind of dance that immediately precedes a final farewell. Orr sends the song out with a piercing extended note on the final “tonight,” the bittersweet beauty of it all reaching a stunning climax. Maybe The Cars aren’t who anyone would have expected to deliver one of the most heartfelt ballads of the ’80s, but “Drive” is impeccable evidence that they did”.

A beautiful and hugely stirring song, Drive definitely made an impact back in 1984. That continued into 1985. Its amazing video, directed by Timothy Hutton and starring Paulina Porizkova, I really love and admire the track. I would urge people to check out the album it is from, Heartbeat City. A chart success and critically acclaimed release, it spawned six singles. I think that Drive is its finest moment. A track that is impossible to ignore and dislike, it turns forty on 23rd July. You only need to hear it once to be cast…

UNDER its spell.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: The Beauty, Quiet and Idyllic Nature of East Wickham Farm

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

The Beauty, Quiet and Idyllic Nature of East Wickham Farm

_________

IN this new feature…

PHOTO CREDIT: Chris Moorhouse/Getty Images

I am going to focus on various aspects of Kate Bush’s life and career. A real tour around her home, heart, work and legacy. Taking in various different sides of her personality and some key moments. In the first part, I am taking things back pretty much to the beginning. The house where she grew up in. East Wickham Farm was this sanctuary and paradise. Inspired by Graeme Thomson’s writing in Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, I have been compelled to write about Kate Bush’s life. I might take it chronologically and follow the biography. Take parts from it. I wanted to start out with what Thomson’s words right near the beginning. Thomson paints this beautiful picture of East Wickham Farm. If you want to know more about this special place, you can read more here and here. It is in Welling, Kent (though I think it may technically fall within Greater London). Still in the family, it was a home and hearth that saw the very young Kate Bush (Catherine/Cathy) drink in all the art and music around her. The influence of her siblings, Jay and Paddy. Her mother, Hannah, and her father, Robert. The fact that her mother especially was incredibly sweet and embraced everyone. That definitely rubbed off on Bush. That warmth and sense of hospitality. Graeme Thomson notes how Kate Bush’s speaking voice is closer to her father’s. Her Irish mother’s musical tastes and heritages had their own impact. The home was once almost isolated and stood without much companionship.

“By the time Bush had started primary school in the early Sixties, only the back of the house backed onto open land. The scrubland of ‘Fanny on the Hill’, stretching away to the north-east towards Plumstead Cemetery”. Into the 1960s, East Wickham Farm was in the same road and area as modern properties. However, there was this privacy. Thicket of trees and a fence meant that there was a carapace. This meant the Bush family was not exposed to the glares of passing traffic and people. It remains this almost old-fashioned and idiosyncratic house that has not drastically changed since Bush lived there in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. I think of East Wickham Farm and I picture nature, escape and pure tranquillity. I have talked about the spot before. However, in light of re-reading Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, my imagination has been stoked once more. You can learn even more about the history of East Wickham Farm/Farmhouse here. As Graeme Thomson notes in his book, there were myriad corners and crooks the young Kate Bush could immerse herself in. I often chart some of her earliest songs to her home and garden. The fact that she had nature and some rural escape within this space. One that was so close to a major city. In her brother’s book, Cathy (Jay/John Carder Bush is a photographer that shot his sister from the 1960s through to 2011), you can see the young girl relaxed and curious.

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush poses at East Wickham Farm in September 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Chris Moorhouse/Evening Standard/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

These black-and-white photos give you a sense of the wonder and peace that she enjoyed growing up. The mixture of beauty, horror, light and dark that you get from all the sides; contours and historic aspects of East Wickham Farm fed into Kate Bush’s music. Definitely so much of Hounds of Love – Kate Bush’s fifth studio album, released in 1985 – is connected with both her time growing up in East Wickham Farm and the fact she returned and recorded there for the album. There was this bubble and cocoon. Almost in its own universe, the fertile and extraordinary energy of East Wickham Farm was evident to anyone who visited. When Kate Bush was young, there was this access to beautiful gardens, farmland and animals. Among the pets were rabbits, Winkle and Took. Hippy-like, eccentric, pre-Raphaelite and secluded, the Bushes would have their weekly shopping delivered. There were plans for the family to move out to Australia/New Zealand when their daughter was six. That was abandoned. I think where an artist grows up and what they experience affects not only their music and personality but the way they interact with people and see the world. For Kate Bush, she had this very comfortable and loving environment. The range of music, arts and television. The literature around the house. The Irish influence from her mother and the English from her father. This almost too picturesque scene! I often think of how Kate Bush would have been in her bedroom thinking about music. Images from around her home and garden flooding her mind. Consider how she had this space and support. Even though the Bush family were not rich, they were not struggling like many people were in the 1950s and 1960s. Not only did Bush absorb music from her parents. She was growing up at a time when artists like The Beatles, Joni Mitchell and  David Bowie were coming through.

Think of some of the songs that can be traced back to East Wickham Farm. From Under the Ivy to A Coral Room through to Warm and Soothing, Oh England My Lionheart and In Search of Peter Pan. All those early demos written in and around East Wickham Farm. There is so much heritage, history and tapestry. I think an entire book can be written about East Wickham Farm. From the time Kate Bush was born through to how it was still this real home to her in the 1980s and 1990s. Perhaps, when her mother died in 1992, there was this sense that part of her home and childhood died too. I often imagine what it was like growing up at East Wickham Farm. The warm summers where Kate Bush and her family were around the garden and farmhouse. In the winter, it would have been frosty and snow-covered. At all times, there was physical and meteorological inspiration. In the first part of this series, I wanted to give a sense of the home in which Kate Bush grew up. Thanks to Graeme Thomson for his invaluable book, Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush. I felt as though, when reading his book, I was transported to East Wickham Farm in the 1960s. Imagining this close and creative family bonded by the energy and unique atmosphere. I picture the young Kate Bush walking down the house stairs, through this beautiful living room, into the garden, by the duck pond, past the flowers, where she makes her way…

UNDER the ivy.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Rain Songs

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

PHOTO CREDIT: Mario Cuadros/Pexels

Rain Songs

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IT has been pretty retched…

PHOTO CREDIT: Khoa Võ/Pexels

in terms of weather. It has been especially wet and awful here in the south. It is an atypical and wet summer so far. Rather than dwell on the rain and less-than-ideal weather, I have compiled a mixtape of rain-related songs. I hope that things brighten up and we get some nice weather soon enough. I am thinking about brighter days but, as it is a bit changeable and wet at the moment, it is worth at least doing something positive. There are lots of varied and cool songs where rain is very much at its heart. In order to do the best to get through the worst of the weather, enjoy the playlist. You may know a lot of the songs, though there are some that might be new to you. If you are need of some physical relief from the rain, if perhaps not thematically, then I hope that the songs below…

PHOTO CREDIT: Olga Shenderova/Pexels

HELP to lift the mood.

FEATURE: The Residency of Life: Kate Bush’s Before the Dawn at Ten: A Life-Changing Experience

FEATURE:

 

 

The Residency of Life

Kate Bush’s Before the Dawn at Ten: A Life-Changing Experience

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I must make it clear at the start…

I was not at any of the twenty-two dates of Before the Dawn. It is the one question asked most of me when I say that I write about Kate Bush: “Were you at Before the Dawn?”. I always mournfully have to answer ‘no’. It is one of those big regrets. No matter. I live in hope that, one day, she will release footage from the residency. Apart from the video for And Dream of Sheep, nothing from that residency has been released. We have the live album yet, for all its wonder and importance, nothing more. Bush was insistent that people did not film the shows on their phone or spoil things. It seemed like an experience reserved solely to those who were at the Eventim Apollo, Hammersmith in August, September and October of 2014. As the opening night was 26th August, I am doing a run of tenth anniversary features. I know that the one thing everyone who was there says is how life-changing it was. One of the most emotionally-charged moments of their life. Everyone who was there sharing this feeling they were witnessing something inexplicably magic and transcendent. It makes the regrets of missing out even sharper. There is little reason now why the footage from Before the Dawn should be kept private. Enough time has passed so that it should be shared more widely. Maybe Kate Bush will never let that happen. It would be a shame. Whilst one could never get the same experience watching a DVD/stream of the concert compared to being there, it would be amazing to see what happened on that stage ten years ago. You can read more about the residency here.

Because there is no doubting how electric and transformative Before the Dawn was, I want to bring in specific examples. People writing about their impressions of being there. The excitement and anxiety of being among the crowd, not knowing what is going to happen. Many would not have seen Kate Bush perform in the flesh before. Some were around when she performed her only tour in 1979. The Tour of Life. The sensation and almost hushed awe of the seconds before she came to the stage. The rapture and wonder of seeing her standing there to perform Lily (the opening number). Right through to the emotion of seeing Bush smiling and humbled by the audience. To have been there! I am going to come to a review I have sourced before. It is from journalist, broadcaster and author Pete Paphides. Beautifully articulating what it was like for him and so many other fans. Because those twenty-two dates saw a mix of celebrities and regular fans, people from all around the globe, of all ages and backgrounds, their experiences were all different. I don’t think there was anyone who left any of the dates disappointed. It was such a moving and life-affirming experience for everyone. In 2014, The Guardian published a feature where they collected together reactions Before the Dawn. How fans tried to put into words what they say:

“Shortly after the show began, the writer Caitlin Moran tweeted: "Kate bush, in black, barefoot, hounds of love, running up that hill, king of the mountain. JESUS."

Bush continued the set with the songs Hounds of Love and Running Up That Hill before the performance moved into the lavish theatrical affair that had been rumoured, based around The Ninth Wave – a seven-track concept piece from the Hounds of Love album – about a woman drifting alone in the sea.

Songs were interspersed with theatrical pieces based on the tale of being lost at sea, with the set including a rescue helicopter flying overhead, a full portable living room and sea monsters.

Giving her reaction after the show, fan Iwona Boesche said: "I've been a fan of Kate Bush from the beginning. It was the best concert or show that I've ever seen and that I will ever see.

"She has just as good a voice as ever, maybe even deeper than before – it's very warm, velvety and expressive as always.

"She's so dynamic and she didn't hold back at all. I cried and everybody around me cried. It was amazing in every respect and she sang all the songs I was hoping [for]."

PHOTO CREDIT: Ken McKay/Rex Features 

She added: "When she was doing The Ninth Wave, you felt the cold of the water, you could see it, you could hear it.

"The sea monsters were really very scary. But mostly what she managed to convey was the coldness, the darkness, the solitude of being alone at sea.

"And another thing about the concert was that I was sitting next to people I've never met before but we all held hands throughout, she just created this warm, intimate atmosphere."

Bush's desire for her 22-night residency to be without the sea of phones, cameras and tablets to ensure she could have "contact" with her audience was also strictly adhered to, with a pre-show announcement requesting everyone turn off their mobiles and security guards patrolling throughout the performance.

Fans were said to be respectful of Bush's wishes, with Ben McMullen saying: "I didn't see a single phone, everyone was so respectful of it. It felt like it would be like taking your phone out in church."

Bush's 16-year-old son, Bertie, was also a constant presence during the show, singing in the backing choir always on stage, taking part in several of the acting scenes and even singing his own solo.

Bush paid tribute to him early on in the performance and, writing in the programme, said: "Without my son Bertie this would never have happened.

"Without his encouragement and enthusiasm, particularly in the early stages when I was very frightened to commit to pushing the 'go' button, I'm sure I would have backed out. Throughout he has been my chief consultant, my editor, my confidant."

Rob Hunter said this intimate family connection on the stage had elevated Bush's performance further.

He said: "I found it very touching that she had her son on stage from the point of view that this woman in the eyes of the world has been so inaccessible.

"But having her child on the stage beside her and the way they interacted, she suddenly seemed exposed and very accessible and it felt like a very warm-hearted moment.

"And that connection came across on the stage. And she seemed spellbound by how people responded to her and how many people love her."

Fans from as far away as the US and Australia flocked to attend the opening concert.

Chad Siwek, who flew from Los Angeles, described standing at the venue on Tuesday night as "like a dream. Kate Bush just means everything to me, she cares more about her work and pleasing her fans than the commercial value or just making money off it."

He paused as his voice broke with emotion, before adding: "I'm sorry, I'm getting choked up but it's just my whole life I've been a huge Kate Bush fan."

Daren Taylor, drummer for band The Airborne Toxic Event, had taken a similar journey to make it to the opening night.

"I've flown in from Los Angeles today just to see Kate Bush," he said.

"It's not easy to express what Kate Bush means to me. Her music touches me, and I'm sure everybody here, in very unique ways. I don't think any two people will tell you the same thing that her music means to them."

For Patrick Bastow, the show was "unlike anything else I have seen. It was a mixture of a West End show and a rock concert.

"The attention to detail that she put in was phenomenal – the lighting, the sound is like nothing I've seen.

"I thought she looked a little nervous to begin with but by the end she looked like she was loving it. The audience didn't really know how to take it. She sang beautifully, she moved gracefully."

He added: "All the theatrics of The Ninth Wave part of the show really brought the songs to life. And then just seeing her on the piano, which I had been hoping for, that was a wonderful moment.

"Interestingly, she did do some new things and she did re-interpret the songs and put new music into the show. Maybe that's why she didn't want photographs and camera phones because she's done something so different.

"I didn't see one person lift a phone. They say 35 years ago that Kate Bush moved rock concerts on, well she's done it again I think”.

Whether you were a regular fan, journalist, musician or anyone else, you were there for the same reason as everyone else: to show love and appreciation for an artist who has made a big impact on your life. That sense of community and congregation. The unexpectedness of Kate Bush announcing the residency in the first place. How people did not know what to expect going in. They did not know she would mount The Ninth Wave (from 1985’s Hounds of Love) in such an epic way. That we would get to see her son Bertie take to the stage. How it would feel when you were at the venue. I am not going to include the whole piece. Perhaps some of the most accurate, potent and illuminating words written about the Before the Dawn experience, it seemed that Pete Paphides’ experiences and emotions chimed with everyone else who was there:

“In the foyer of the Hammersmith Odeon before the third of Kate Bush’s first shows in 35 years, it’s hard to make generalisations. But I’ll allow myself this one about the guy next to me who, despite never having met me, keeps passing his binoculars to me so I can see what he’s seeing. And the male twentysomething fan who will brave the tube home dressed in a white cotton tunic, black tights, face painted in white and silver, his hair wreathed by leaves and twigs. And the woman who has gone to the trouble of having a dress made just like the one festooned with clouds on the sleeve of Never For Ever. And the woman who rushes from her seat during the encore of Cloudbusting to hand a bouquet of lilies to Bush (who, in turn, receives it between bows). “Too much” is why we came. There’s nothing more antithetical to Kate Bush’s music than sensory temperance. For three hours, it’s like finding out there was a Dolby switch pressed on your consciousness. The moment that Bush, draped in black and barefoot, marches in a soft, shuffling procession, flanked by her five backing singers, you turn it off. You might need it for the journey to work on Monday, but it’s of no use to you now.

She smiles beatifically throughout Lily — the invocation to guardian angels which originally appeared on The Red Shoes and, in 2011, The Director’s Cut — apart from when attacking the top notes, which she does with the phlegm-rattling zeal of a seasoned soul singer. The love in the room is unlike anything I’ve seen at a live show. Given free rein, it would surely result in an instant surge to the stage, but it’s tempered by a deference which extends to uniform acceptance of Bush’s stated no-cameras request. As a consequence, the first three songs are bookended by a total of six standing ovations. Hounds Of Love is exactly what it should be given the passage of three decades: drummer Omar Hakim and perma-grining percussion talisman Mino Cinelu hold back the rhythmic landslide, creating space for a vocal pitched closer to resignation than combativeness. Eighteen months ago, when Bush’s son Bertie McIntosh (then 15) finally persuaded her to return to live performance, the first two people she pencilled in for the project were the lighting designer Mark Henderson and Hakim. Within the opening section, it isn’t hard to see why Bush wanted to assemble her band around Hakim. Running Up That Hill is every bit as unyielding and startling as it was the very first time you heard it: doubly so for the incoming storm whipped up from the back of the stage. On King Of The Mountain, he reprises the freestyling pyrotechnics of his turn on Daft Punk’s Giorgio By Moroder. Everything about King Of The Mountain, in fact, is astonishing. Bush navigates her way around the song’s rising sense of portent with a mixture of fear and fascination that puts you in mind of professional storm chasers. When they’re not singing, her backing vocalists dance as if goading some unholy denouement into action, before finally Cinelu steps into a misty spotlight. On the end of a rope which he demonically twirls ever faster is some sort of primitive wooden cyclone simulator.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing of all is that this — King Of The Mountain and the preceding songs — is a preamble to the first act. In 1985, as Hounds Of Love was being readied for release, Kate Bush sketched out a putative film script for The Ninth Wave — the 30 minute suite of songs, which shared its title with Ivan Aivanovsky’s 1850 painting of a group castaways clinging to floating debris as dawn approaches. But, as she writes in the programme, “In many ways, it lends itself better to the medium of stage.” She’s referring to the conceit at the heart of The Ninth Wave and, yes, she’s right. What would have been impossibly confusing on film is only occasionally confusing when played out on stage. On a screen, we see the stranded protagonist in her lifejacket in palpable distress, relying on scenes from her past and future to keep her from slipping under. On stage we see those feverish visions played out before us. If Bush’s distress looks unsettlingly convincing on the screen, that might be because the 20ft deep tank at Pinewood Studios in which she had to be immersed for several hours pushed her to method actor extremes: singing live whilst gradually succumbing to a fever which was later diagnosed by her GP as “mild hypothermia.”

With the stage bathed in low blue light, Bush cuts a disembodied presence on screen, singing And Dream Of Sheep, all but unreachable to the singers who impassively assume the role of Greek chorus to her plight. What ensues is heartbreaking, frightening and funny, often at the same time. There’s the seismic din of a helicopter provided some huge piece of cuboid god-knows-what machinery which glides over the audience with searchlights blazing (the voice of its pilot supplied by Bush’s brother Paddy). There’s a blizzard of tissue-thin pieces of ochre paper bearing the excerpt from Tennyson’s The Holy Grail which is also featured on the sleeve of Hounds Of Love. There’s a deliberately mundane sitting-room exchange between her husband (Bob Harms) and son (McIntosh) about a burnt toad-in-the-hole to which she can only bear witness in ghost form (Waatching You Watching Me). Then, of course, there are the fish people: skeletal fish-headed creatures that lurk elegantly around the action. That, in 2011, Bush called her record label Fish People — predating the first meetings about these shows by two years — suggests that these guys were probably present on Bush’s very first sketches for The Ninth Wave 30 years ago.

At times you imagine every prog-rock star who reluctantly had their wings clipped by punk feeling a sense of unalloyed vindication at the scenes being played out here. After the release of 2011’s 50 Words For Snow, I interviewed Kate Bush and asked her about recent musical inspirations. I figured that someone must surely have played her Joanna Newsom’s Ys whilst exclaiming, “Look! A kindred spirit!” (they hadn’t) But actually, she probably has no need of new input. It’s increasingly apparent that Bush’s musical hard drive was full by the time she made her first record. As Watching You Without Me modulates into Jig Of Life, I try and pin the musical sense of deja vu to an actual memory. Finally it comes to me. This sort of spectral somnambulant ceilidh was precisely the sort of thing which arty stoners in the early 70s — arty stoners such as Bush’s older brothers — would have sought out in the albums of Harvest Records outliers Third Ear Band. Except, of course, the one thing that Third Ear Band lacked was a cosmically attuned sensualist to act as a smiling Trojan horse to her own avant-garde sensibilities. And so, here we are. A generation of pop fans suckered by Wuthering Heights, Wow and Babooshka. And we’re watching four people in fish heads wheel in a floating bit of rig illuminated by red flares. In a moment, she will climb aboard before the fish people claim her, carrying her aloft away from the sea, and among us through the aisle before, finally, The Morning Fog. This is perhaps as beautiful as anything we have seen up to this point. Dancers and singers take their partners. and, bathed in golden light, Bush exchanges glances with her fellow players. Everything you have seen in the preceding hour is the result of more than a year of drilled, deliberate meticulous planning. And yet, on the back of such vertiginous terrain, Bush gazes at her fellow performers with the relieved air of a trainee pilot who had to land a Boeing Airbus after the rest of the cabin crew had passed out.

It could end there. It really could. That was a whole show, right there. But on the other side of the intermission, it’s all change once again. Comprising the second half of 2005’s Aerial, A Sky Of Honey emerged from Bush’s fascination with the connection between light and birdsong and then, as she puts it: “Us, observing nature. Us, being there.” Without realising it, with those last three words, Bush may have propelled us to the essence of our connection with much of her most affecting music (The Sensual World, Breathing, Snowflake). The Ninth Wave is really about the miraculous, ungraspable nature of human consciousness. And, if the subtext — intended or otherwise — of that piece is that only we humans can reflect upon what it means to die, then the subtext of A Sky Of Honey is that only we humans can reflect upon what a gazillion-to-one miracle it is to be alive. Us, observing nature. Us, being there. 

Up on stage, it’s left to Bush’s son — playing the part of the painter, a role assumed on the album recording by Rolf Harris) — to be that observer. But before all of that, it’s just Bush at the piano for the first time, encircled on the left hand of the stage by her band, with the right side left empty for the ensuing action. Controlled by its puppeteer, a black-clad Ben Thompson, a wooden artist’s model — perhaps the size of a ten year-old child — walks inquisitively around the stage during Prologue until finally it alights upon the singer. As Bush sings “What a lovely afternoon” and the drums come in, it appears startled. All the time, the backdrop shows birds in slow-motion, while the backing singers (increasingly, given what they have to do, “backing singers” doesn’t begin to cover what they have to do, but “chorus” is unhelpfully ambiguous) move gingerly around each other in painters’ garb. A slowly moving sky descends to fill the space on the right. The palette-wielding McIntosh dabs at the canvas with a brush, attracting the curiosity of the wooden model. “Piss off! I’m trying to work here,” he exclaims, while his mum — dressed in an Indian-style black and gold outfit — moves around him in slow motion.

If it’s surprising to see McIntosh rise to the challenges set before him so fearlessly — “A kind of ‘Pan’ figure” — it’s worth keeping in mind that he’s already the same age that his mum was when she started recording her first album. In a voice at least two octaves deeper than the one he used for Snowflake on 50 Words For Snow, Bush’s son bemoans his rain-splattered work on The Painter’s Link (“It’s raining/What has become of my painting?/All the colours are running”). But here, as on the record, there are no mistakes, just serendipity. The colours run and dusk magically materialises; the redemptive downpour brings all the musicians to the front for almost Balearic, flamenco-flecked stampede of Sunset. As a succession of joyous falsetto “Prrrrrraaah!!”s attest, the moments that see Bush at her most unguarded are the ones where she gets to commune with the twenty-odd players around her.

From hereon in, the Aerial segment of the show — co-directed, as is The Ninth Wave, by former RSC honcho Adrian Noble — is an object lesson in sustained rapture. No less a highlight than it is on the record, Somewhere In Between sees its creator transported by the power of her own song and, in doing so, transports you to the fleeting magic-hour reverie it celebrates. There is also a new song, Tawny Moon, for which McIntosh confidently takes centre stage and climaxes by effectively acting as ringmaster to the huge full moon rising from the back of the stage.

Few musicians are more adept at conveying a sense that something good is going to happen than Kate Bush. We know what Nocturn sounds like on record, so a certain sense of expectation is unavoidable. On either side of the stage, we see arrows fired from bows into the firmament, where they turn into birds. For reasons I couldn’t honestly fathom, we see the painter’s model sacrificing a seagull to no discernible end. Over a rising funk that defies physical resistance, Bush makes a break for transcendence and effectively brings us with her: “We stand in the Atlantic/We become panoramic,” she sings, with arms aloft. Like the rest of the band, guitarist David Rhodes has donned bird mask. As Bush is presented with vast black wings, she and Rhodes circle elegantly around each other, before finally, briefly, she takes flight.

Just two songs by way of an encore — which, after what has preceded them, seems generous: Among Angels from 2011’s Fifty Words For Snow is performed solo at the piano, before the entire band return for Cloudbusting. Once again, we’re reminded that, almost uniquely among her peers, Kate Bush goes to extraordinary lengths in search of subjects that hold up that magic of living up to the light for just long enough to think that we can reach it. But, like the beaming 56 year-old mother singing, “The sun’s coming out”, that too dissipates into memory. And, after another 19 performances, what will happen? In another 35 years, Kate Bush will be 91. Even if she’s still here, we might not be. Perhaps that’s why tonight, she gave us everything she had. And somehow, either in spite or because of that, we still didn’t want to let her go”.

There are some reviews for Before the Dawn. Getting new perspective and insight. Super Deluxe Edition predicted Kate Bush would release the Blu-Ray/DVD of the concert footage as her next project (in 2015). That sadly has not materialised. Bush revealed the terror she felt when she stepped onto that stage. She needn’t have worried! The hope among fans is that Before the Dawn is not the last time we will see Kate Bush on the stage – though it may well be. It is clear that the fans’ reaction to Before the Dawn moved Kate Bush:

“She continued: "It was one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life. I loved the whole process. Particularly putting the band, the Chorus and the team together and watching it all evolve. It really was the ultimate combination of talent and artists, both from the music business and the theatre world. I never expected everyone in the team to be so lovely and we all grew very close. We became a family and I really miss them all terribly."

Despite a rabid fanbase rapturously awaiting the performances after all these years, with the "Before the Dawn" experience marking the first proper shows from the singer since her 1979 "Tour of Life," Bush was surprised at the response she got from the audiences at the Hammersmith Apollo.

"I was really delighted that the shows were received so positively and so warmly but the really unexpected part of it all was the audiences. Audiences that you could only ever dream of," she wrote

"One of the main reasons for wanting to perform live again was to have contact with that audience. They took my breath away. Every single night they were so behind us. You could feel their support from the minute we walked on stage. I just never imagined it would be possible to connect with an audience on such a powerful and intimate level; to feel such, well quite frankly, love. It was like this at every single show”.

It is not too big a statement to say that Before the Dawn was life-changing. Whether you were a fan from the very start in the 1970s or were fairly new to her by 2014, everyone was bonded and stunned by what they saw! I will finish with a from some of the well-known faces who were at Before the Dawn:

“The 56-year-old announced that she would be performing 22-dates at the iconic London venue, and when the tickets went on sale, they sold out within 15 minutes.

Lily Allen and Gemma Arterton were all there for the opening night, while it was also rumoured that Madonna, Bjork and David Bowie were also in attendance.

The Hard Out Here hitmaker posted a tweet ahead of the concert, writing: "K8 [bush symbol] @ Eventim Apollo."

While writer Caitlin Moran, who was joined by her pal Lauren Laverne, tweeted: "Hammersmith, 15 minutes before Kate Bush comes on . Mood: Christmas like hysteria."

Poor Culture Club star Boy George couldn’t make the show tonight, as he sadly tweeted: "Had to miss Kate Bush tonight but hopefully I will catch one of the shows."

While Great British Bake Off host Sue Perkins tweeted: “Ooh, yeah, you're amazing! We think you're incredible..' Kate Bush, I love you. Good luck tonight xxx”

On 26th August, we celebrate ten years of one of the greatest opening nights in any residency or tour. It came with such hype and expectation. Kate Bush did not disappoint. She could never disappoint. She exceeded everyone’s expectations. Many hope that Before the Dawn would lead to more live work. I think that Before the Dawn was an ending. We might never see something like it…

EVER again.

FEATURE: Rock ‘n’ Roll Star: Oasis’ Definitely Maybe at Thirty: The Greatest Debut of the 1990s?

FEATURE:

 

 

Rock ‘n’ Roll Star

Oasis’ Definitely Maybe at Thirty: The Greatest Debut of the 1990s?

_________

IT is quite a big claim…

IN THIS PHOTO: Tony McCarroll, Paul 'Bonehead' Arthurs, Noel Gallagher, Liam Gallagher, Paul 'Guigsy' McGuigan photographed in 1994/PHOTO CREDIT: Michel Linssen/Redferns

but Definitely Maybe might be the best debut album of the 1990s. In a year where there was stellar competition, how many made as big an impact as Oasis’ Definitely Maybe?! On 29th August, Noel Gallagher, Liam Gallagher, Paul ‘Bonehead’ Arthurs, Paul ‘Guigsy’ McGuigan and Tony McCaroll laid down one of the biggest statements of the decade. Oasis booked Monnow Valley Studio in late 1993 to record Definitely Maybe. They initially worked with producer Dave Batchelor. It didn’t amount to much, as the sessions were unsatisfactory (Batchelor was subsequently fired). In January 1994, Oasis set about re-recording the album at Sawmills Studio in Cornwall. These sessions were produced by Noel Gallagher and Mark Coyle. It was still not an ideal outcome. Creation's Marcus Russell contacted engineer and producer Owen Morris. He then worked on mixing the album at Johnny Marr's studio in Manchester. It sounds like the album would be a mess. Given the producer changes and disruption, what we have is a consistent and brilliant album. You cannot really tell that it has a few different producers. It is confidence and timeliness of Definitely Maybe that makes it among the best albums of the 1990s. Opening with the magnificent Rock ‘n’ Roll Star, Definitely Maybe captures your attention right away. Released on 29th August, 1994, I wanted to look inside the album ahead of its thirtieth anniversary. As Supersonic and Shakemaker were successful singles, it was no surprise that Definitely Maybe was a chart smash. Live Forever was released three weeks before the album. I remember when Definitely Maybe came out. The sheer excitement and anticipation of it. At the time, there was not really this rivalry with Blur that would be stoked by the media. The Manchester band came onto the scene with a distinct sound and ambition. Not trying to fit into any scene or compete.

There is that swagger and confidence. A band fully formed and ambitious. Some might argue there are stronger and more important debut albums in the 1990s. Consider the impact Definitely Maybe made and how acclaimed it is. So many artists influenced by it. In terms of defining the sound of the 1990s in British music, few other albums made as big an impression as Oasis’ debut. It is amazing how little is written about Definitely Maybe. Considering it is seen as one of the best albums of the 1990s, there are not that many reviews. Not that many long ones anyway. Fairly few features about its making. It is a real pity. One hopes that this will be rectified ahead of the thirtieth anniversary. One cannot deny the consistency and potency of Definitely Maybe. How many songs from the album are anthems of today. As someone who can pick at flaws with the album – Noel Gallagher pinching riffs and sounds from other artists quite blatantly; the second half of Definitely Maybe loses some momentum -, it was such an important part of my musical childhood. I was eleven when the album came out. In terms of what Deifnitely Maybe did for British Rock. With U.S. Grunge and Pop being more important and popular prior, Definitely Maybe definitely helped shake things up and open doors. Rather than it being downbeat or angry, there was this celebratory and uplifting mood that was much needed. Not that this album was solely responsible for Britpop – Suede arguably got there first -, though you can trace a line back to Definitely Maybe and how it helped define this movement. I am going to close with a couple of reviews. Before 29th August, I will write at least one more feature about Definitely Maybe. There are many reasons to love it. There is that sense that, perhaps, Oasis never better it. Such was the quality of the music and the sense of importance about Definitely Maybe. Definitely among the best debut albums ever. The best debut of the 1990s? It is quite a declaration, yet consider all the album has done and how popular it is.

I am going to end with a couple of reviews for Definitely Maybe. Dead Good Music had their say on Definitely Maybe in 2021. It was clear that, thirty years ago British music saw this transformation and revolution. Oasis were very much at the forefront of that movement:

“1994: a year that saw the landscape of music change in Britain. It was a time to be proud to be British after so long embracing American culture.

By the time Oasis bulldozed their way onto the scene, other British bands were already starting to achieve mainstream success. Acts such as Suede and Blur were scoring their highest charting singles to date. As a young lad getting into guitar music at that time, I definitely felt a movement was beginning to take place.

In April, Oasis would release their debut single “Supersonic”. Although it would only reach a modest 31 in the UK charts, there was already a statement of intent “I need to be myself, I can’t be no one else” – a motto certainly to live by.

“Shakermaker” and “Live Forever” would quickly follow as singles in June and August that year, with songwriter Noel Gallagher already trying to emulate The Beatles by releasing singles every few months.

August 29th was the date Definitely Maybe was unleashed on the UK and it was the day I walked into Music Zone record shop in Stockport to purchase the CD. The album commences with the perfect opener to any album: “Rock n Roll Star”. Chin out and in your face. “I live my life for the stars that shine”, “Tonight I’m a rock n roll star” – You can imagine kids singing that in their bedrooms hoping one day that could be them. A song about dreams of escaping the hum drum life on a council estate.

That to me was the definition of early Oasis songs. Filled with hope about how good your life could actually be. Singing about subjects any kid could relate to. “Live Forever” relates to friendship, when you have two friends who get the jokes that no one else does, “Cigarettes and Alcohol”, a song about, well Cigarettes and Alcohol, and “Slide Away”, a song about love.

Ranking albums as the greatest is always a matter of opinion and is always based on your own personal experiences. For me, as a lad just leaving his teenage years, this album is special for so many reasons. It’s the album that got me into guitar music after the charts being dominated by blandness.

It’s cliche to say it but it’s also an album that made me think differently as an individual, took me on a different path musically and definitely changed my lifestyle both socially and culturally. I discovered so many different bands and went to so many gigs from that day forward.

To me that’s the sign of an era-defining album. Other people probably cite The Jam, The Smiths and The Stone Roses for the same reasons but they were before my time. Definitely Maybe was right here, right now for me.

With front man Liam Gallagher now playing to audiences as big as Oasis played to and Noel Gallagher also achieving great success, the iconic band are still relevant to kids not even born when Definitely Maybe was released. A definite sign of a crossover in eras showing the long-term legacy of Oasis”.

I shall end with a review from AllMusic. A number one success in the U.K., there is no denying how Definitely Maybe captured a mood. It really shook of the scene here. This new band coming through and releasing an album that was so immediate and rich. Not just mindless anthems and noise. It is that blend of anger and depth. With Liam Gallagher pouring his heart out in every song, you can feel the authenticity:

“Definitely Maybe begins with a statement of aspiration, as Liam Gallagher sneers that "tonight, I'm a rock & roll star" -- the words of a bedsit dreamer hoping he'd break out of those four walls and find something greater. Maybe all he could muster is a fleeting moment of stardom as he sings in front of a fleet of amps pushing out power chords, or perhaps he'd really become a rock & roll star; all that matters is he makes the leap. This dream echoes throughout Oasis' debut, a record which takes the dreams of its listeners every bit as seriously as those of its creators. Both the artist and audience desire something greater than their surroundings, and that yearning gives Definitely Maybe a restlessness that resonates. Certainly, Oasis aren't looking to redefine rock & roll here; they'd rather inhabit it. They scour through the remnants of the past three decades to come up with a quintessentially British rock & roll record, one that swaggers with the defiance of the Rolling Stones, roars with the sneer of the Sex Pistols, thieves from the past like the Happy Mondays, and ties it all together with a melodicism as natural as Paul McCartney, even if Definitely Maybe never quite sounds like the Beatles. All the Fab Four comparisons trumpeted by the brothers Gallagher were a feint, a way to get their group considered as part of the major leagues. Soon enough, these affirmations became a self-fulfilling prophecy -- act the way you'd like to be and soon you'll be the way you act, as it were -- but that bravado hardly diminishes the accomplishment of Definitely Maybe.

It is a furious, inspiring record, a rallying cry for the downtrodden to rise above and seize their day but, most of all, it's a blast of potent, incendiary rock & roll. Soon after its release, Noel Gallagher would be hailed as the finest songwriter of his generation, an odd designation for a guy drawn to moon/June rhymes, but his brilliance lies in his bold strokes. He never shied away from the obvious, and his confidence in his reappropriation of cliches lends these bromides a new power, as do his strong, sinewy melodies -- so powerful, it doesn't matter if they were snatched from elsewhere (as they were on "Shakermaker" or the B-side "Fade Away"). The other secret is of course Noel's brother, Liam, the greatest rock & roll vocalist of his generation, a force of nature who never seems to consider either the past or the present but rather exists in an ever-present now. He sometimes sighs but usually sneers, shaking off any doubt and acting like the rock & roll star Noel so wanted to be. This tension would soon rip the group apart but here on Oasis' debut, this chemistry is an addictive energy, so Definitely Maybe winds up a rare thing: it has the foundation of a classic album wrapped in the energy of a band who can't conceive a future beyond the sunset”.

There is so much to say about Definitely Maybe. A debut album that proudly can sit alongside the absolute best ever. I think about the 1990s and Oasis’ 1994 debut springs to mind. It was this massive release. This revolutionary working-class band from Manchester striking against decades of political strife. Songs about aspirations, youth and freedom. It offered something hopeful and relatable for the youth of Britain in 1994. The reason it sustained and was so enduring is because it did give people something to cling to. Britain was under Tory rule until 1997. In the three years before government change and the release of Definitely Maybe, this album spoke more truth than any politician.

I want to bring in a final section about Definitely Maybe and its impact. I know Liam Gallagher has said he is going to tour and perform the album. Wikipedia have collated polls where Definitely Maybe has ranked high. How it has won such acclaim. There is no denying the place it has in music history. If you have not dug into the album in a while, then you really need to sit down with and experience this majestic run of songs:

“In 1997, Definitely Maybe was named the 14th greatest album of all time in a "Music of the Millennium" poll conducted by HMV, Channel 4, The Guardian, and Classic FM. On Channel 4's "100 Greatest Albums" countdown in 2005, the album was placed at No. 6. In 2006, NME placed the album at No. 3 on its list of the greatest British albums ever, behind the Stone Roses' self-titled debut album and the Smiths' The Queen Is Dead. In a 2006 British poll run by NME and the Guinness Book of British Hit Singles, the album was voted the best album of all time, with the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band finishing second. Q placed it at No. 5 on its greatest albums of all time list in 2006, and NME hailed it as the greatest album of all time that same year.

In a 2008 poll conducted by Q and HMV of the greatest British albums of all time, Definitely Maybe placed at No. 1. Rolling Stone ranked the album at No. 217 on its 2020 list of the "500 Greatest Albums of All Time", No. 78 on its 2011 list of the "100 Best Albums of the Nineties", as well as No. 42 on its 2013 list of the "100 Best Debut Albums of All Time". The German edition of Rolling Stone ranked the album at No. 156 on its list of "The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time”.

On 29th August, we mark thirty years of Definitely Maybe. It is this album that still resonates to this day. There is a thirtieth anniversary edition you can pre-order. With relatively few working-class Rock bands at the forefront, I think that we need to look to Definitely Maybe and the influence it had. How it can kickstart something today. Alongside the singles and anthems from the album, there is so many other gems to be discovered. A debut like no other. There is no…

MAYBE about it!

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Remembering Chris Cornell at Sixty

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

Remembering Chris Cornell at Sixty

_________

ON 20th July…

IN THIS PHOTO: Soundgarden

it will be a bittersweet day. We sadly lost the amazing Chris Cornell in 2017. On 20th July, it would have been his sixtieth birthday. Leaving us far too soon, he was the lead of Soundgarden. Also part of Temple of the Dog and Audioslave, he possessed one of the most potent and powerful voices in music. A wonderful songwriter and incredible live performer, it is worth celebrating his brilliance and legacy. We should salute Chris Cornell and all he gave to music. I am going to end this feature with a collection of songs from Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple of the Dog, in addition to his solo work. Before that, AllMusic provide a biography of ana amazing and much-missed pioneer:

“The singer and frontman for Soundgarden, Chris Cornell also forged his own career after the band's initial break-up in 1997. Soundgarden had rightfully become one of rock's most popular bands on the strength of such albums as Badmotorfinger and Superunknown. And with each album, Cornell's vocals grew stronger -- farther away from heavy metal screaming and toward a true singing style. Euphoria Morning, his first solo album, was in the singer/songwriter mold, but he also pursued true pop music on 2009's Scream, with help from producer Timbaland. Cornell also joined forces with former Rage Against the Machine members as Audioslave, and continued recording and performing -- both as a solo artist and with a resurgent Soundgarden -- until his death in 2017. Posthumous releases like 2020's No One Sings Like You Anymore, Vol. 1 continued to celebrate his legacy as a powerful and expressive vocalist.

Born in Seattle on July 20, 1964, his music career didn't take shape until he was a teenager when he began playing drums in a local cover band. Although he spent most of his teenage years as a loner, rock music helped Cornell overcome his uneasiness around others. After dropping out of high school and working as a cook, Cornell laid the foundation for what would become the influential grunge band Soundgarden by the mid-'80s. Cornell assumed vocal duties for the group, with friend Hiro Yamamoto on bass, Kim Thayil on guitar, and eventually Matt Cameron on drums.

Along with the Melvins, Soundgarden was one of the first rock bands to slow down punk's youthful energy to a Black Sabbath-like crawl. Following the release of several recordings on various independent labels, Soundgarden also became one of the first bands of the Seattle underground to sign with a major label, A&M, which issued Louder Than Love in 1989. After the album's release, however, Yamamoto left and was first replaced by ex-Nirvana member Jason Everman, who was later ousted by Ben Shepherd. With Soundgarden's quintessential lineup in place, the group became one of rock's most popular bands on the strength of such albums as 1991's Badmotorfinger, 1994's Superunknown, and 1996's Down on the Upside. With each album, Cornell's singing grew stronger as he demonstrated a growing mastery of his multi-octave range.

From the start, however, Cornell's talents weren't limited to his work with Soundgarden. He organized a tribute for late Mother Love Bone singer Andrew Wood in the form of 1990's Temple of the Dog project, which featured a stripped-down sound and yielded the enduring hit "Hunger Strike."

Cornell's first officially released solo composition, the acoustic "Seasons," was the highlight of the 1992 motion picture soundtrack Singles. His bluesy voice also helmed a superb cover of Jimi Hendrix's "Hey Baby (New Rising Sun)" on the 1993 Stone Free: A Tribute to Jimi Hendrix compilation (under the pseudonym M.A.C.C.). Meanwhile, he found time to pen songs for other acts (including Flotsam & Jetsam and Alice Cooper) while also producing the Screaming Trees' 1991 release, Uncle Anesthesia. After Soundgarden's demise in April 1997, Cornell slowly but surely began to assemble a solo album with his friends from the band Eleven.

Issued in 1999, Euphoria Morning was a departure from his former band's sound, emphasizing Cornell's vocals and lyrics rather than meaty guitar riffs. Shortly after its release, Cornell launched his first solo tour, mixing songs from all eras of his career. After the tour's conclusion in early 2000, a tepid remix of the Euphoria Morning track "Mission" (retitled "Mission 2000") was included on the Mission Impossible 2 soundtrack. It appeared as though Cornell would take a break from music for a while, as his wife gave birth to the couple's first child in June of the same year, but by late 2000, Cornell found himself involved in a project that promised to be a classic hard rock collaboration.

Rage Against the Machine had decided not to break up after longtime vocalist Zack de la Rocha left the band, opting instead to find another singer and carry on under a different name. Cornell accepted an invitation to jam and pen a few songs (which former Rage guitarist Tom Morello described as "really groundbreaking") and, shortly thereafter, officially joined forces with the former Rage members under the moniker Audioslave. Produced by Rick Rubin, the band's self-titled debut arrived in November 2002 and went multi-platinum. The follow-up effort, 2005's Out of Exile, debuted at number one on the Billboard charts and was followed by the platinum-selling Revelations in 2006. Despite such success, Cornell left the band that same year, citing the usual "irreconcilable differences" for his departure.

Cornell returned to his solo career with 2007's Carry On. Although the album was largely biographical, it also featured a cover of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" (a rendition made famous one year later by American Idol contender David Cook) and a song from the James Bond movie Casino Royale. Two new singles, "Ground Zero" and "Watch Out," were offered as digital downloads one year later, featuring a newfound emphasis on electronics and studio trickery. The tracks had been recorded with producer Timbaland, with whom Cornell partnered for the creation of his third solo album. Stocked with drum machines and R&B melodies, Scream arrived in March 2009, heralded by Timbaland as "the best work I've done in my career" but received poorly by several critics.

The following year, Soundgarden joined the many popular '90s alternative bands who reunited in the 2000s and 2010s, headlining that year's Lollapalooza festival and releasing the retrospectives Telephantasm and Live on I-5, which documented the group's 1996 tour, as well as recording new songs. The following spring, however, Cornell returned to his solo career with the solo acoustic Songbook tour, from which came two EPs and the Songbook album, all of which were released in 2011. That September, Cornell contributed a song to the Machine Gun Preacher soundtrack. King Animal, Soundgarden's first album since Down on the Upside, appeared in November 2012 and the group supported the record with a tour. Cornell returned to his solo work in 2015, teaming with producer Brendan O'Brien to record Higher Truth, his first collection of original solo songs since 2009's Scream.

Cornell returned to Soundgarden in 2016, and the band began work on a new album. In the meantime, the group released a deluxe reissue of Ultramega OK in March 2017 and began an American tour that April. On May 17, following the band's concert at Detroit's Fox Theater, Cornell was found dead in his hotel room; he had taken his own life at the age of 52. The following year, a legacy compilation chronicling Cornell's career arrived in the form of Chris Cornell, which included key tracks from his Soundgarden and Audioslave eras, as well as touchstones from his decades-spanning solo career and a previously unreleased song. One of those tracks, "When Bad Does Good," won Best Rock Performance at the 61st Grammy Awards.

Posthumous projects from Cornell began to arrive in 2019, when the Soundgarden album Live from the Artists Den arrived that summer. In 2020, a covers album called No One Sings Like You Anymore, Vol. 1 that Cornell completed prior to his death was released digitally; a physical version followed in early 2021. The set and single "Nothing Compares 2 U" were both nominated for Grammy Awards in 2021”.

I remember hearing news of Chris Cornell’s death in 2017. It was such a shock! Having grown up listening to Soundgarden, it felt very personal. Rather than feel sad, I wanted to celebrate his music. On 20th July, it would have been his sixtieth birthday. I want to use this opportunity highlight one of the finest songwriters and voices ever. Someone who has influenced so many other artists, Chris Cornell’s brilliance will shine…

FOR generations more.

FEATURE: So Real: Jeff Buckley’s Grace at Thirty

FEATURE:

 

 

So Real

Jeff Buckley’s Grace at Thirty

_________

MANY consider this album…

IN THIS PHOTO: Jeff Buckley in Milan in 1994/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

to be one of the finest debuts ever. I could not argue against it. Sadly, it was the only album Jeff Buckley would release before his death in 1997 at the age of thirty. Grace was released on 23rd August, 1994. I am looking ahead to its thirtieth anniversary. It is so sad that we do not have Jeff Buckley with us to celebrate Grace. It was a minor success in his native U.S. in 1994. More acclaimed and know here in the U.K. and Europe. In years since, Grace is seen as one of the most influential albums ever. A masterpiece from the Californian songwriter who, sadly, left us before his full potential was revealed. Many might associate Grace with Buckley’s transcendent cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. I think it is his original songwriting that stands out. Tracks like Grace, So Real, Dream Brother and Last Goodbye. His interpretative skill and range on show for Lilac Wine and Corpus Christi Carol. A Legacy Edition was released in 2004 on its tenth anniversary. It is shocking to think that Grace received mixed reviews and poor sales upon its release. In 1994, the music landscape was maybe set up more for other types of music. There was more of an Alternative threads in U.S. music. Britpop starting in the U.K. Grace maybe nodding back to artists like Joni Mitchell or those from the East Village in New York. Perhaps Grace more familiar with albums of the 1960s and 1970s. Of course, we now recognise Grace as a stunning and faultless album from one of the greatest voices ever. I wonder whether there will be any reissue or anything special happening for the thirtieth anniversary of Jeff Buckley’s debut album. It has influenced so many artists.

I will bring in a couple of reviews for Grace to finish off. Before that, there are some features I want to bring in. In 2019, Consequence of Sound looked back at Grace. How it arrived in 1994 in a music scene where other sounds and artists were fashionable. Grace had all this hype and buzz behind it. Seen as a bit disappointing when it arrived on 23rd August, 1994. Now we herald this album. Such a pity Jeff Buckley could not see the impact his debut album would make:

“Buckley had only one album to his name when he died, but my word, what an album it was. Grace hit shelves in 1994, arguably alternative rock’s single greatest year; its contemporaries included Soundgarden’s Superunknown, Beck’s Mellow Gold, Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral, Hole’s Live Through This, Green Day’s Dookie, and Weezer’s (first) self-titled album, to name just a few. The question isn’t whether or not Grace was superior to them — you can decide that one for yourself — but it sounded so fundamentally unlike those other albums that it might as well have come from another era. American alternative rock (as opposed to Britpop) was iconoclastic, disdainful of the hubris and hedonism of classic rock; moreover, it sounded ugly, and it dealt with ugly emotions.

Grace, on the other hand, was so … pretty. Compared with the blunt force riffage of Cobain, Kim Thayil (of Soundgarden), and other grunge guitarists, Buckley’s guitarwork was nimbler and more melodic and made much greater use of reverb than distortion. But prettiest of all remains Buckley’s voice — an instrument that has been described as “angelic” and “ethereal” so many times that it baits exasperation until you listen to it again and realize holy shit, it really is that special. The range and clarity of Buckley’s voice enabled him to not just cover but reinterpret seemingly every corner of the classic rock canon, which he had obvious respect for; filtered through Buckley’s voice box, the likes of Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, Nina Simone, Van Morrison, and Leonard Cohen became something else entirely.

Speaking of Cohen, it’s impossible to write about Grace without setting aside at least a paragraph for Buckley’s cover of “Hallelujah”. Going into this review, I was tempted to put off the song for as long as possible, or to not select it as one of the album’s essential tracks, but it couldn’t be done. There’s just no way to imagine Grace without “Hallelujah”. Like Johnny Cash’s take on Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt”, Buckley’s version of “Hallelujah” is so complete a transformation that it effectively steals the song for himself. For better or worse, it may be his definitive song: for better, because it really does demonstrate what was so remarkable about him — how pristine his singing and guitar playing were — and for worse, because its overuse in movies and television as a sort of emotional shorthand threatens to eclipse the other nine tracks on Grace.

While Cohen’s song wouldn’t loom over Buckley until long after he died, he entered the music industry under the shadow of another artist: his late father, Tim Buckley. The elder Buckley — a similarly gifted vocalist whose work spanned folk, jazz and funk (and is worth hearing in its own right) — had no relationship with his son, meeting him only once before his own accidental death in 1975. Jeff, then eight years old, wasn’t invited to the funeral. He’d get the chance to pay his last respects in 1991, singing a few of his father’s songs at the “Greetings from Tim Buckley” tribute concert. He didn’t intend to use his appearance as a breakthrough into the music industry (he requested that his name be left off the lineup), but it certainly put his foot in the door. (If you want to hear what Buckley was doing between the tribute concert and Grace, check out the expanded edition of Live at Sin-é.)

But on the rest of Grace, Buckley really only sounds like himself. The dreamy (some might say druggy) “Mojo Pin” has some of the most creative and unexpected musical transitions outside of progressive rock, deftly switching between delicate fingerpicking, soft strumming, and rapid strumming. “Last Goodbye”, likely the second-best-known song on the album (after “Hallelujah”, of course), is such a soaring tune that you just might forget it’s a breakup song, using strings in a way that sounds splendid as opposed to syrupy. Bookending “Hallelujah” on the album are the hypnotic “So Real”, which repeats itself over and over again like a spiral staircase to the sky, and “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over”, a slow-burning, yearning ballad. All of these songs serve as reminders that Buckley was making some of the most unique and unabashedly beautiful music of the ’90s.

After Grace, he’d grow more reluctant to record beauty for beauty’s sake. He also started to chafe under increased pressure from his label; Columbia had indulged Buckley in the studio and sent him on a year and a half of near-constant touring, but Grace was a slow seller and met with reviews that were favorable but not effusive. The label urged Buckley to release “Forget Her”, a bluesy lament that might have been a hit if Buckley hadn’t left it off Grace as a single — a request that Buckley, who had grown tired of the song, refused. (Some posthumous editions of Grace tacked the song onto the end after “Dream Brother”.) Going into Grace’s follow-up, then titled My Sweetheart the Drunk, Buckley seemed determined to make a record that was thornier and less commercial, enlisting Tom Verlaine (formerly of Television) to produce the initial sessions and eschewing its predecessor’s dalliances with folk and jazz. Where Buckley genuflected to the classics on Grace, My Sweetheart the Drunk seemed to be his bid for indie cred — and it probably would have gotten him a lot of it had he lived to finish the record the way he wanted. It’s impossible to know what it would have sounded like.

It’s also impossible to know what the reputation of Grace would be if Buckley were still alive today. In the years after Buckley’s passing, Grace drew praise from many of his idols: Bob Dylan called Buckley “one of the great songwriters of this decade”; David Bowie once claimed Grace to be among his favorite albums ever made; even Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, whose music Buckley had fallen in love with so long ago, paid their respects. The death of an artist changes the way we see their art as the loss of what we could have had forces us to reevaluate what we do have. There’s no doubt that Buckley wanted his debut album to stand the test of time, and it’s a shame that it’s the only classic he lived to complete. But it speaks to the musician that he could have been — the musician that he was — that Grace has left such a lasting legacy”.

Prior to getting to reviews, it is worth sourcing from No Depression. They celebrated the emotional lightning rod of Grace at twenty-five. Writing about it in 2019, it is amazing to think that there was not this massive excitement and celebration of Grace. It must have been heartbreaking for Jeff Buckley to read some of those reviews. Having poured his hearth and soul into every song, the press and public were not as receptive as hoped. With core band members Michael Tighe, Matt Johnson and Mick Grøndahl, something magic was released in 1994:

“Grace is 25 years old. Jeff Buckley’s debut is gorgeous and heartbreaking, ambitious, daring and eclectic, and, as the sole studio album released during his short life, the only fully realized vision of the artistic brilliance he possessed.

With the expectation that his first LP was the starting point of an iconic recording career, Columbia Records released Grace on Aug. 23, 1994. Entertainment Weekly deemed it “stunningly original” and “too good to be true.” Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune heralded Buckley’s voice as having “a soulful intensity that sends chills.” Peers and legends such as Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, David Bowie, and Chris Cornell were effusive in their praise of the album and of Buckley’s tremendous gifts as a singer, guitarist, and composer.

Others were not so kind. Rolling Stone lauded his ambition, but gave Grace a three-star review that featured the one of the poorest-aging opinions in the magazine’s history: “The young Buckley’s vocals don’t always stand up: He doesn’t sound battered or desperate enough to carry off Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah.’” And Robert Christgau, the “Dean of American Rock Critics,” gave it a C rating and lampooned the hoopla surrounding Buckley by writing, “Let us pray the force of hype blows him all the way to Uranus.”

A Vessel

The son of prodigiously talented folk-jazz singer/cult icon Tim Buckley and Mary Guibert, Jeff arrived at music without the guidance of the father he met only once before Tim’s death in 1975 from a drug overdose. While a cornerstone of his legacy is his gorgeous, multi-octave voice, Buckley’s first passion and pursuit in music was the guitar, where he was drawn to the sounds of Led Zeppelin and jazz fusion.

After spending the latter half of the 1980s kicking around as a guitarist in various jazz, metal, punk, funk, reggae, and R&B bands, Buckley began to pursue his own songs. In 1991 he attracted industry attention when, accompanied by guitarist Gary Lucas, he made his public singing debut at a tribute show for his father.

From there, Buckley’s career trajectory changed. After collaborating with Lucas for a year, he went out on his own and became part of the New York City café scene. These shows, later documented on Live at Sin-é, became part of his legend, featuring both his original tunes and an eclectic mix of fare made popular by Nina Simone, Billie Holiday, Judy Garland, and Bad Brains.

These café shows regularly attracted record executives and power players, and in October 1992 Buckley signed a three-album deal with Columbia Records. The label had high hopes that Buckley’s brilliance would quickly reveal itself to a wider range of fans. The thinking was that he’d succeed labelmates Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen as someone who would flourish into the finest singer-songwriter of his generation and compile a legendary body of work.

For the band that helped record Grace and toured with him in support, that brilliance was apparent from the beginning.

“This might sound stupid, but I don’t give a shit,” his former drummer Matt Johnson says. “But one time when we were playing, something about his voice went through my body. It was an entirely metaphysical moment where something supernatural happened.

“The man was one of the most extraordinary musicians to ever live,” he adds. “Jeff was this lightning rod of the tone and tenor of all the human emotion in a room. He had this ability to act as an emotional lightning rod, and I always thought he’d hopefully become a vessel for that.” 

Saving ‘Grace’

Johnson first met Buckley in summer 1993 and within a couple of months was recruited to be the drummer for the Grace recording sessions. Though the then-23-year-old had had some session and recording experience, Johnson had never worked on a project of this scale before. As he looks back on the experience, Johnson thinks his youth and relative inexperience played a large part in why Buckley wanted him in the band.

“Jeff seemed to be confident he could get what he needed from this ensemble,” he says. “We were young and, in my case, had a lot of insecurities. I think he wanted that — he didn’t want session musicians, he wanted the transformation younger players would bring and create a snapshot of that.”

While Johnson recalls that “the stakes felt high” and there was a “sense of importance of Jeff” to Columbia, he doesn’t remember the process of creating Grace as particularly laborious or fraught. Part of this can be attributed to the calming nature of producer Andy Wallace, who had previously worked on Nirvana’s Nevermind, Run-DMC’s Raising Hell, and multiple albums by Slayer, and his ability to nurture the creative process.

Johnson also attributes a large part of that to Buckley’s multi-instrumental capabilities, uncanny ear, instincts, and efficiency. Because of that, it only took about a day per song to lay down the non-vocal elements.

“I thought he was a very good collaborator, bandleader, and mentor,” Johnson says. “Jeff understood how to both be an individual musician, while also still keenly aware of how to be part of an ensemble.

“His listening was a very powerful thing to be present for,” Johnson continues, comparing Buckley’s auditory capacity to that of composer Johann Sebastian Bach. “It could be textures, entry points, Jeff just knew how stuff should be held together. He could get a pairing of two basic opposites and it’d sound idiosyncratic and perfect.”

While Johnson was there for the entirety of the recording process, Michael Tighe came into Buckley’s band at the tail end of the sessions. The guitarist had met Buckley through a mutual friend in high school and the two had jammed on and off. As Buckley closed in on completing Grace and was putting together his touring band, he reached out to his friend.

Much like Johnson, Tighe was impressed by Buckley’s ability to absorb so many influences and styles, then translate it into his own work.

“He would ruminate on the music a lot and when it came time for recording, he’d really focus,” Tighe says. “He’d usually come in very quickly or he’d obsess on it and get into a perfectionist mindset. But he wouldn’t release something until it was perfect.

“He was really taken with a lot of music,” Tighe says. “He could cast this spell and create a space that was quite meditative. We would sit or stand in a circle and drone on something. We all had very good chemistry; it’s why he put the band together.”

That natural chemistry Buckley had with Tighe and the rest of the group came in handy and allowed Tighe to come in with a late contribution that changed the complexion of Grace.

“One day I played him the chords to ‘So Real.’ It was something I played him in my room (back in high school),” he recalls. “This was after, like, most of the album was done. During rehearsals he said, ‘Hey, remember that song you played in your room?’”

Thus, “So Real” came to be. To make room for it on Grace, Buckley bumped “Forget Her” off the album. This move came much to the chagrin of Columbia Records, which had planned to issue “Forget Her” as the lead single. Neither Johnson nor Tighe can recall quite why Buckley held such disdain for “Forget Her,” a tune of his own composition, but both vividly remember his adamance in replacing it.

“‘So Real’ saved the record for him,” Johnson says. “And it points toward the sound he was going for, it’s the sound of a door opening to the future.”

A Cult Hero

When Grace was finally released, grunge rock, hip-hop, and The Lion King soundtrack dominated the charts. There weren’t many acts out there simultaneously channeling Nina Simone, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the Smiths, and Led Zeppelin. As such, it took a long time for the record to take hold and capture the imagination of listeners: It peaked at 149 on the Billboard Top 200 albums chart that year and didn’t reaching platinum-selling status until 2006.

“You can go back now and think about the production and the mix from that time period, but I think it’s perfect in its own way,” Tighe notes. “I think Jeff was very aware of how good the album was, but I think it bothered him slightly the album wasn’t more successful. But he was already a cult hero. We all thought it’d be a longer career and that would change.

“The zeitgeist was so different back then. There weren’t bands like Coldplay, Radiohead had just started,” Tighe says. “When I play it now for people, I love watching the glaze that comes over their eyes. Ultimately, it’s his voice, people just have an immediate emotional reaction to his voice.”

Johnson’s feelings on Grace are tied strongly to the recording sessions, that moment in time they captured and what it all meant personally. The fact that it connected with people well after the fact is an added bonus.

“When it comes to Grace, I feel very, very lucky. I’m never in a position to look at it like anything but a fuckin’ penny from heaven,” he says. “There isn’t one song I don’t like. When I hear it, it’s like I made this amazing best image of me that could be captured in any scenario.

“I can’t find fault with it and it’s not like I haven’t heard criticism,” Johnson continues. “But the feeling I got recording it was absolutely spine-chilling. I did not ever more feel what the drive of my life was, and it could not have borne better fruits. To have Rolling Stone or whoever now praise it is icing on the fucking cake. I don’t ever feel like, ‘What the fuck took you so long?’”

Musical Echoes

It took a few years for Buckley’s influence on fellow artists to be heard. By Tighe’s estimation, it was around the early 2000s that he started hearing Buckley-esque melodies on the radio, including from bands such as Coldplay and Radiohead, who drew inspiration from Buckley’s chord progressions and structures.

“Now you just hear it all the time,” he says. “There was that moment a while back someone did ‘Hallelujah’ on one of those shows like American Idol. The zeitgeist has changed a lot”.

Let’s end with a couple of reviews. Grace: Legacy Edition was reviewed by Pitchfork  in 2004. They note how Jeff Buckley was more of a songbird than a Rock artist. Maybe the mainstream and media not quite sure what to make of him. An artist that stood out in 1994. The raw emotion and heart-baring songs were perhaps jarring or unusual against the sounds of the time:

“1993's Live at Sin-e EP gives the best idea of what Columbia's A&R; rep must have seen in Buckley at the time. At shows, he was the picture of a high diva: sprawling, boundless and with more than a pinch of self-conscious glitter. However, as he revealed in The Making of Grace, the behind-the-scenes feature that leads off the third disc DVD in Columbia's new "Legacy" edition reissue of his debut full-length, he needed a band. He already had Grondhal, met drummer Matt Johnson through Grace executive producer Steve Berkowitz, and, midway through recording the album, brought in guitarist Michael Tighe (who eventually contributed "So Real", to which Buckley added a chorus and put on the record in place of the bluesy "Forget Her"). Producer Andy Wallace speaks on the documentary about his concerns over how much of the record should reflect Buckley's solo performances, but true to form, the singer wanted it all.

Somehow, despite an overflow of ideas-- they needed three different band setups available at all times to accommodate Buckley's various moods-- the record got done. And it was released. And thousands of open-heart romantics heard their ship come in. As it happened, Grace was received with mixed feelings from critics who probably thought they were getting the next great alt-rock savior, and instead felt they'd received dinner theater for the moody crowd. They had a point: For all its swells of emotion and midnight dynamics, Grace was not a record to rally the post-grunge alternation. It made a jazz noise where a rock one was expected and a classical one where a pop one might have sold more records. MTV snagged "Last Goodbye", Grace's most radio-friendly song by a considerable margin, but Buckley was predestined for a cult stardom.

Grace's strengths have been well-documented over the years: The flawless choice of cover songs, including the definitive reading of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (that we learn on the documentary was actually chosen based on John Cale's 1991 version from the Cohen tribute I'm Your Fan); the mystic, blue textures of "Mojo Pin", "So Real" and "Dream Brother" that seemed as related to Led Zeppelin as to Scott Walker as to Buckley's father; Wallace's sympathetic, intimate production and the band's equally sensitive following of Buckley's lead. And of course, he sang the hell out of those songs. His voice turned upward songs that naturally leaned inward; his reading of Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine" transformed from misty cocktail lament into transcendental experience, and the unlikely recasting of English composer Benjamin Britten's "Corpus Christi Carol" into ambient lullaby.

And, as this reissue proves, for every bit of lightning trapped in a jar, Buckley was willing to try his hand at many songs with which he held a weaker grasp. Firstly, he fancied himself a rock star, and the second disc of this set includes endearing, but ultimately inessential readings of the MC5's "Kick Out the Jams", a pretty silly Screamin' Jay Hawkins impersonation on Leiber & Stoller's "Alligator Wine", and a speed-metal take on "Eternal Life". His version of Big Star's "Kanga-Roo" nails its weary grandeur, but goes overboard on the ensuing 11-minute jam session, effectively transforming it from intimidating wall of drone into a meandering, albeit unfinished and tentative giant. He sounds best interpreting songs like Bukka White's "Parchman Farm Blues", Simone's "The Other Woman", and Bob Dylan's "Mama, You Been On My Mind", though his own take on the blues-- the previously unreleased "Forget Her"-- sounds comparatively pedestrian.

So, the question becomes how frustrated you are willing to be with Buckley. His posthumous releases suggest what Grace did: that he was one of the most talented musicians of his generation, while also being one of the most impulsive and, often, maddeningly inconsistent. Is he really being served by the uncovering of outtakes, B-sides and live performances? Fans certainly think so, but I won't cop to listening very beyond his lone completed record these days. And it bears emphasizing that its rewards have lost nothing in 10 years. Grace remains one of the most engaging, inspired records ever made, and its 10 original songs serve as the best possible portrait of Buckley as a diva, songwriter and artist”.

There are other features and reviews that are well worth exploring. I am going to end with a review from Sputnik Music. They heralded an essential Rock album that has changed music in years since. Thirty years after its release, you can feel and see the impact it has had. So many artists owe a huge debt to Jeff Buckley’s dazzling, distinct, pure and moving debut. The artistry and passion that goes into the tracks. It is so captivating all these years later:

“Displaying a blend of warm folky ballads, alternative rockers, and even gospel touches here and there, Grace's music is pretty diverse and serves as a great backdrop for Buckley's vocals which, let's face it, are still the main focus here. Among the most impressive things the record manages to accomplish is establishing a powerful chemistry between Jeff's singing and the instrumentation, which intertwine in a variety of interesting ways. The way the singer's vocal work and guitar playing combine in a song like the warm chord-centric Leonard Cohen cover "Hallelujah" creates an intimate atmosphere that makes for an extremely passionate performance. You'll be able to hear a pin drop during that stunning instrumental break in the middle as the guitar work quietly modulates through multiple keys with some absolutely gorgeous finger-picking. "Lilac Wine" follows a similar path, albeit in a more melancholic fashion, before transforming into a soulful ballad that, despite repeating its main motif quite a bit, never seems to grow old. There are, however, many times in which Buckley completely overpowers the instrumentation 100%, such as in the title track's stunning climax near its conclusion. Jeff holds a note with his head-voice that lasts for over ten seconds, along with actually going up a few notes in the process; it is at this point that you realize that he is in full control of this entire record. While "Mojo Pin" serves as a nice somber opener, the title track raises the stakes and displays just how large Jeff's vocal range is and the plethora of techniques he knows. Between his falsettos, high head-voice notes, quiet and intimate near-whispers, etc., he reveals his proverbial "hand" quite early on and yet continues to impress anyway.

One of the most important facts considering this record's acclaim is how it's not at all a product of the times (1994 in this case), and that is what makes it so great. In fact, songs like "Hallelujah," "Lover, You Should've Come Over," and bittersweet closer "Dream Brother" sound like they'd be special and out of place (in a good way) in any time period because of how genuinely timeless they sound. The same could be said of most of the record, although some songs such as "Last Goodbye" and loud rocker "Eternal Life" are a bit more on the conventional side; in that case, Buckley's vocals and little compositional subtleties elevate them beyond being generic or unmemorable. Also, perhaps one of Grace's biggest strengths is how many of its songs create crystal-clear mental images; musical environments, if you will. The intro to "Lover, You Should've Come Over" is one such song, using the harmonium (aka pump organ) to create an airy and melancholic landscape that somehow seems hopeful because of the use of some beautiful major chords in the mix. "Mojo Pin" uses extensive note-bending on the guitar, creating what sounds like a new age-inspired vibe even as the louder moments take hold of the overall song. Perhaps the most sadly fitting is "Dream Brother," which conveys a brooding, somber sound that seems almost desolate and empty, the album's dark conclusion almost seeming like a foreshadowing of Buckley's own demise.

In the end, Jeff Buckley could be considered the 90s version of 60/70s folk legend Nick Drake, releasing a small amount of material before dying way too early. But luckily, he also shared the distinction of having his work being some of the most acclaimed music of his generation, and it garnered him a posthumous fanbase beyond what anybody would've expected. Grace is one of the most essential records of rock music, not just of the 90s but all rock (and folk, for that matter) in general; it wasn't just a promising debut, but a miracle of a record in its own right”.

On 23rd August, it will be thirty years since the release of Grace. There will be celebration. Rather than the more muted reaction back in 1994, there will be more love and respect for Jeff Buckley’s debut. Produced by Andy Wallace and, with songs that have stood the test of time, there is no doubting how important Grace is. If Jeff Buckley were still with is, he would be touched and love…

HOW people have taken Grace to heart.

FEATURE: It’s a Fire: Portishead’s Dummy at Thirty

FEATURE:

 

 

It’s a Fire

Portishead’s Dummy at Thirty

_________

ONE of the greatest albums…

of the 1990s celebrates a big anniversary next month. Released on 22nd August, 1994, it went on to win the 1995 Mercury Prize. That album is Portishead’s Dummy. Their amazing and timeless debut, it ranks alongside the best debuts ever. It is amazing how few articles there are about Dummy and its story. Given that it is such a huge and acclaimed album, one would think there would be more! I will come to some reviews soon. I want to start off by highlighting some features that have been written about Dummy. Classic Album Sundays told the story and gave some history about the epic and hugely original Dummy:

“Portishead released their first album, “Dummy”, in 1994. At the time their music did not sound like much else out there although it did draw upon the Bristol sound popularised by The Wild Bunch and Massive Attack. However, Portishead pushed the sound further with the sultry, folky vocal style of singer Beth Gibbons and breakologist Geoff Barrow’s unique sampling choices.

Trip Hop

In the mid-eighties in Bristol The Wild Bunch sound system started to fuse together hip hop, house, soul, R&B, reggae, ambient and jazz at their events.  Later three of the members went on to form Massive Attack and drew together these influences with their debut album “Blue Lines”. The label Mo’Wax were inspired by the sound and in 1994 Mixmag journo Andy Pemberton reviewed Mo’Wax artists R.P.M. and DJ Shadow and coined the term “Trip Hop”. The sound was then an omniscient presence in a host of backroom club lounges and dinner parties.

Crossover

Later that same year, Bristol act Portishead’s debut album “Dummy” pushed the sound further in yet another direction as Gibbon’s vocal style lent more toward folk rather than soul. Barrow also pushed the envelope with his sampling choices which included jazz, soundtracks and Berlin cabaret songs. Their distinctive blend enabled them cross over from a club fanbase to an indie audience which helped them win the coveted Mercury Music Prize. It most likely encouraged Massive Attack to explore new territories on their subsequent albums and it has since helped set the stage for contemporary acts like The xx.

Hip Hop

In an interview from 1997, Barrow explained how Portishead were massively influenced by American Hip Hop: ” I was in rock and could have stayed with the drums and stuff, but when hip-hop first hit suburban England, it kind of took over and was massively exciting. It was a real thing you could get into. It’s difficult to describe, but to a younger generation of sixteen-year-old kids it was that you wouldn’t go out and have a fight; you’d go out and dance against each other. We were like, ‘Well, what the hell?'”

To Kill a Dead Man

The cover of “Dummy” features a still from a short film made by Portishead called “To Kill a Dead Man”. It is an eleven minute black and white movie about an assassination which stars and is scored by the band. Although he appreciated the opportunities that ensued from doing the film, Geoff Barrow was later disappointed by film itself, “When I look at ‘To Kill a Dead Man’, I can’t stand it. I think it was a dreadful piece of film. Basically, it was done so that we could write some film music. Not to put down anyone involved with the film, but we should have done it with pure images, rather than having us in it. It was misunderstood, what we wanted to get out of it. It created an image, and the whole idea was for it not to”.

In 2017, XS Noize wrote about Dummy. I am not going to quote the entire feature, though it is wonderful piece that offers up a lot of insight into Portishead’s debut. I first heard it not long after it came out in 1994. It has been with me ever since. The more I listen to it the more I get:

“Portishead was formed in 1991 and was named for the nearby town eight miles away. Initially the band was formed as a duo with Geoff Barrow and Beth Gibbons. Adrian Utley who was initially credited as a co producer on “Dummy” would become an official member after the debut making them a trio. They would eventually add as a fourth member David McDonald who had been the engineer on “Dummy” along with session drummer Clive Deamer also frequently orbiting in their atmosphere.

“Dummy” would be recorded between 1993 and 1994 at State of Art and Coach House Studios in Bristol. There were additional musicians used to flesh out the sound of the recording, most prominently drummer Clive Deamer. During the period in the studio the band would invent their own way of creating music, mixing master musicianship, technology and mood. Barrow, Deamer and Utley would jam in the studio, then engineer the tunes onto a 24 track tape, feed it back through sequencers and press the sounds on vinyl to manipulate them even further. From there Beth Gibbons’ would spin her alchemy providing a center for the music; adding sorrow, a certain knowingness, allure and grimness all in their turn. She had the singular ability to morph her performance vocally into whatever the sonics demanded producing a compelling allure. The songs that came out of this process were unique. The tracks would harken to the ambiance of Bristol, an ambiguous neon lit form reflected in dark puddles of ennui.

There was little sense of warning in advance of Portishead’s emergence. They had not gigged before the “Dummy” release and were not operating like a traditional band in any sense of the definition. The band was positively allergic to press coverage but somehow managed to be revered critically and become commercially successful. “Dummy” produced three singles “Numb, Sour Times, and Glory Box” all of which would climb the charts. “Dummy” would win a Mercury Music Prize in 1995. It would go to #2 on the UK Album Charts, reach #5 on the Alternative Charts in the States, and be certified gold in 1997. The album would go on to sell 2 million copies and counting and be certified double Platinum. That is an awfully good showing for an album that was the definition of Alternative; weaving together strands of Blues, Funk, and Hip Hop infusing them with icy ennui and a blast of cool. ‘Dummy” is filled with the disquieting brilliance of claustrophobia, emotional numbness and dark dread. When all is said and done, “Dummy” is cited as one of the greatest Trip Hop albums to date and a definitive milestone for the genre.

Dummy opens with “Mysterons” which is like music created for a Noir film yet to be made. The dreamy distorted accompaniment is loaded with spectacular drums, scratch effects and Gibbon’s emotional keening pleas. Those pleas come forth like a letting loose of emotions in a most arresting non British way. There is a steady “stream of consciousness” flow that speaks to the suppression to the unconscious of various crimes and violations. “Inside your pretending, crimes have been swept aside, somewhere where they can forget”. All the while the underlying motivations and intents are judged. “Mysterons” is a spectacular opener just giving a taste of what is to follow.

Probably the best know song of the release; “Sour Times” is like a drug infecting the senses with the ennui of forlorn lust and desire. In an era of sampling, Portishead provided seamless samplings in this case from; Lalo Schifrin, Otis Turner and Henry Brooks. But the track is not just about the samples and more about the samples blending in to enhance the fantastic James Bondesque guitar, hurdy gurdy/balalaika effects and a bass that nails the song. There is an ethereal existential ethos to the lyrics, “end the vows, no need to lie, enjoy, take a ride, take a shot now…cause nobody love me, it’s true, not like you do.” Gibbons delivers a spot on come hither coyness that heightens the sensuous allure making the sexual potency of the track palpable. “Sour Times” is a simply gorgeous concoction and it is easy to understand why it lodged in the public’s ear.

“Strangers” is delicious quintessential Portishead. It is suave and sophisticated all the while conveying isolation and individuality. The jazzy intro head fakes for a moment then breaks out into an outrageous blend of Trip Hop sound with jaw dropping percussion. Gibbons’ knowing vocal delivery is enchanting as she lays out the lyrical gems, “Did you realize, no one can see inside your view, did you realize, for why this sight belongs to you.” Here is a song that beckons to be loved. “It Could Be Sweet” is a torch song with that special proprietary blend of cool thrown into the mix. Presented is an exhibition of restraint and minimalism with simple percussive effects and a light touch producing a wondrous work. The jazz blend brings out the evocative feel of Gibbons’ vocal as it takes front and center. The lyrics play on the idea of what ifs. What if that one thing could be added or taken away to make something perfect or sweet? Identified is that the problem is all too often with ourselves, our fear and cowardice, “You don’t get something for nothing, turn now; mmmm you gotta try a little harder.”

The double whammy of “Wandering Star” resides in the great marriage of insistent bass and drums producing that plodding effect that is a beat line to die for. Additionally stellar is the horn usage and that diddle of a guitar riff. Numerous samplings were also utilized to perfect the song, with the sum being greater than any one part on the instrumentation. The topic was depression and how its monotony descends like a cloud blocking out all the joy of living, “Please could you stay awhile to share my grief for it’s such a lovely day to have to always feel this way.” The track is probably one of my favorites of the release.

“It’s a Fire” contains some fantastic droning keyboards and again marries many genres. It begins like a Kate Bush ballad and then slides into a funky Trip Hop testimonial with gospel stylings. There is great pathos as the lyrics consider whether or not life is some kind of great cosmic joke. “Cos this life is a farce, I can’t breathe through this mask like a fool.” In the end the realization is that humanity and the individual persevere no matter how foolish that may seem. From the questioning of life’s intent the song “Numb” moves on to examining loneliness and isolation. Conveyed is a feeling of being lost in a crowd, unable to relate or feel. Gibbons’ delivery is charged with sexual electricity that attempts to mask the true sadness of the lyric and her vulnerability. “Try to reveal what I could feel but this loneliness it just won’t leave me alone”. The alluring Trip Hop beat and Hammond organ along side that rain drop drum create a fantastic backdrop for the vocals to sail overtop. For all of song’s outward armor it puts on display the soulful nakedness of the inner person.

“Roads” is the song that most reflects Massive Attack’s influences. There is an unmade movie somewhere that belongs to this song. The wavery intro keyboards produce the moody panorama for the track. Many of the same elements found in the other tracks are arranged beautifully to make for a truly outstanding selection. The soaring strings drip with emotions as Gibbons gives what in my opinion is her most touching vocal performance of the release. Addressed is the fight within ourselves and the overall fight for civilization; “I got nobody on my side and surely that ain’t right… oh, can’t anybody see we got a war to fight.” It is an expansive and ever revealing song that lodges into your soul not letting go.

In hindsight what really wows on “Dummy” is the sustained freshness and consistent quality of the tracks. There is no settling for the subpar as “Pedestal” again stuns. Its brilliant beats throb along with the sly cymbal work making for a sinuous track that is oh so appealing. The lyrics show someone placed on a pedestal or is it a pillory platform alone and abandoned to the whims of judgment and ridicule with nowhere to hide, “You abandoned me how I suffer, ridicule breathes a sigh”. As to Gibbons’ presentation, her stilted delivery is cunningly apt when compared to the expected over emoting that would be the usual approach. Beautifully placed horns add the icing on this magnificent creation, I hate for this song to end”.

I am going to finish with a feature from The Guardian. In 2019, they interviewed Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley about how the album came together. It is a majestic and hugely affecting album that is like nothing else. Even if some say that Dummy is not Portishead’s absolute peak, few can argue against its importance and impact. Considered one of the best albums of the 1990s and ever, you need to hear Dummy. Ahead of its thirtieth anniversary, I hope that more people write about the immaculate masterpiece:

“When the two men met, Barrow was a ponytailed 19-year-old making demos with the 26-year-old Gibbons at the city’s Coach House Studios (Barrow and Gibbons had met at an Enterprise Allowance training day at the dole office in 1990: “She was a grown-up in my eyes,” he says). Utley was 34, a bored jazz session guitarist finishing yet another job in a room downstairs. “And I remember somebody opening the door upstairs and me hearing It Could Be Sweet [one of the first tracks written for Dummy]. I was all, ‘Fuck me, what is that?’ Just hearing the sub-bass and Beth’s voice – it was unbelievable. Like a whole new world that was really exciting and vital.”

The three bonded quickly. Utley mined Barrow for his knowledge of sampling (“Tell me everything! How are they making that Queen track go on and off?”), while Utley’s collection of TV-recorded spy films introduced his bandmates to unusual sounds from instruments such as cimbaloms and theremins. “It was a really exciting time, because there was this amalgamation of ideas and a lifetime of separate discovery with all of us. And the fact that we brought it to each other…” Utley beams. “It was like a new love.”

Barrow and Gibbons’s first ideas for songs had been recorded in Neneh Cherry’s kitchen in London (Barrow had been hired by Cherry’s husband and manager, Cameron McVey, to work on her second album, Homebrew, on which he co-wrote and co-produced the song Somedays; McVey spotted Barrow’s talent when he worked as a trainee tape operator on Massive Attack’s groundbreaking 1991 album Blue Lines). That working relationship had fallen apart. Barrow’s mental health had also declined. “I was in a terrible place. Through the Gulf war, I was really quite sick, physically and mentally. Mental stuff. I thought the war was the end of the world. I’d never had a breakdown before – I think it was just the pressure of the Portishead stuff – I didn’t know I was having it. And no one ever talked to me about mental health in any way.” “You’re able to hide mental health issues within the music industry,” Utley chips in. “It’s completely acceptable to be a little bit crazy, drink too much or take too many drugs. It’s like: ‘Yeah, man, he was fucked last night’. No one asks, ‘why was he fucked?’ I think that ignorance has been going on for ever.”

Dummy motored on after Portishead, now a trio, moved to the Bristol district of Easton to record. “That was grim too,” Barrow laughs. “The only place to eat was Iceland or this horrible pub called Granny’s where your beans and chips would arrive with Granny’s thumb in it.” The lush soundscapes of Dummy rose from that bleakness. “But the process is never romantic, is it?” Barrow continues. “Listen to how New Order made their first records, or whoever, and it’s always going to be the same story. You’re in some shithole somewhere that you’ve made into something OK.”

Bristol has changed since then, but not in a good way, the men say. Homelessness and drugs problems are even bigger issues. “Plus you go somewhere like St Pauls – which was very much a community of Caribbean people – and there’s some posh student in a onesie,” Utley says. “Really privileged kids that have taken that area over.” In 2017, Bristol was named the most desirable British city to live in by one survey, but also the most racially segregated by another. Its past has always been unpleasantly divided, says Barrow, citing a book called A Darker History of Bristol, which recounts its history with slavery. “And still, lots of Bristol people only give a fuck about themselves,” he adds. “But there’s been an anti-establishment arts scene here too, for years, with a massive tongue in its cheek. It was there in the Pop Group, Smith and Mighty, the Wild Bunch, and Banksy [Barrow was music supervisor for Banksy’s 2010 exhibition, Exit Through the Gift Shop]. It’s always found itself.” A note of hope, then? He shrugs, still unsure.

Portishead have always been a political band on their own terms. A quote from Jo Cox (“We have far more in common than that which divides us”) was featured in their 2016 video for SOS; it still sits on their website’s landing page. Barrow and Utley also rant about Brexit, Trump and the Tories on Twitter feeds constantly; we meet four days after the new PM arrives, which Barrow calls “an absolute fucking disaster” (he later retweets Jeremy Corbyn’s plan to stop a no-deal Brexit).

Utley also mentions Gibbons’s lyrics being “very visceral and political” about gender and the politics of relationships, despite their abstract nature. He recalls Gibbons pointed out a “mansplaining” incident in a restaurant, and it reflecting one of her songs (they don’t mention the song, adding they don’t discuss her lyrics in detail). Barrow also recalls sexist record company A&Rs from their early days. “This real meat and veg vibe. Men going: ‘What’s this moaning bird on about?’”

By winter 1994, Dummy was everywhere. And in January it went to No 3 in the charts, behind Celine Dion and the Beautiful South. Sour Times and Glory Box became top 15 singles. Then came the Mercury win, at which Barrow ranted about prizes being preposterous (“I still agree with that”). He also recalls his mum being cross with Paul Morley (“he’d dissed us a bit”) and chatting amiably to Noel Gallagher. “I remember thinking, Oh, most musicians are dead normal. Or at least as mad as you.”

Barrow and Utley’s main beef is that Dummy is remembered as a sexy, chillout record in the UK. “When people say that, I find it bizarre.” He says Portishead had far more in common with Nirvana than any dance or chillout acts. “I know that sounds ridiculous – but they also had these visceral chord changes, never being harmonically correct.” He has a theory though: that the dance culture that happened in Britain didn’t happen elsewhere on the same scale, “so when everyone was partying and taking pills and coming down, the attitudes were different.” Portishead are just seen as a vocal-led band elsewhere, he adds, with Gibbons as a Polly Harvey or Hope Sandoval figure. They’re huge in France, Switzerland and the US, where Third entered the charts at No 7, and in Latin America: they played to 80,000 in Mexico City. Despite their recent silence, every Portishead musician remains busy. Barrow makes film scores with composer Ben Salisbury (his latest for the Octavia Spencer and Naomi Watts film Luce, is released in the UK this November) and “really loves” playing live with his Krautrock-influenced band Beak. Utley has made a soundtrack with artist Gillian Wearing for a George Eliot documentary recently, worked on Anna Calvi’s latest LP, and with the Paraorchestra of Great Britain on several projects.

They’re still passionate about new music. Both fathers, they like “that great gothy woman the kids like who makes stuff on Logic on her laptop” (we work out it’s Billie Eilish), James Holden, Idles, Hildur Guðnadóttir and Sharon Van Etten (Barrow), Kate Tempest, Thurston Moore and Perfume Genius (Utley). Things they don’t like include composer Nils Frahm, about whom they rant for five hilarious minutes. Barrow: “He’ll change his scarf half way through to prove how important he is.” Utley: “He’s grade 3 piano. He’s fucking Richard Clayderman.”

That joyous railing against everyone else, that sticking to one’s guns, makes you wish for Portishead to return as a musical entity even sooner. Utley confirms he was the last to see Gibbons: “The other week for lunch. It was great. We slagged everything off!” Will we see them back together soon? The men look at each other for a moment too long – moments later, as I start to leave, they’re talking about the photographs again. “It’s all up in the air, really,” Utley says. “If the wind blows hard enough, you never know”.

I am going to end with a couple of reviews. In 2010, BBC recognised how Dummy is one of the best debut albums of the 1990s. No doubt about that. In a month where titanic debuts from the likes of Jeff Buckey and Oasis were released, Portishead’s introduction stood out:

“Portishead’s Mercury Prize-winning debut takes just seconds to spook its audience. An eerie drone, scratches that sound like alien chatter, a snapping beat that cracks with hip hop attitude but treads cautiously for fear of stepping on a crack and tumbling into whatever unholy chasm music like this is capable of opening. Mysterons’ title is apt – named after the Martian race from Captain Scarlett, it’s an emission from a faraway planet of secrets and shadows. It opens the group’s singular soundworld in a way that’s exquisitely discomforting.

True, the constituents that make up much of this collection are easily traced – back to dub, to soul, and especially to hip hop; the array of scratch effects, loops and samples (the best being the slurry use of Johnnie Ray’s version of I’ll Never Fall in Love Again, on Biscuit) betraying its makers’ affections for very terrestrial traits. But it’s the manner in which the pieces come together that makes Dummy special to this day. While 16 years old, it sounds remarkably fresh – perhaps because its minimalist design has been recently returned to the Mercury winners circle by The xx; perhaps because the mixture of this backdrop with the vocals of Beth Gibbons remains one of pop music’s most compelling combinations.

While producer Geoff Barrow is the heart of Dummy, and Adrian Utley another just-as-vital organ, the soul is Gibbons. It’s her presence that made Portishead truly stand out from the post-Blue Lines crowd, a group of artists loosely categorised as trip hop. It’s important not to exaggerate her role in taking the group from their West Country roots to worldwide acclaim, to the detriment of her bandmates, but her voice – a ghostly, fractured wail that sounds as if it’s crept from an Edwardian closet that’s been sealed since 1902 – plays a vital part in ensuring this set side-steps convention. Hers is a voice that can’t be copied, coming from the back of her mouth, shaped by throat rather than tongue and lips; it creaks and moans like Mary Celeste decking, every bit as shivers-down-the-spine inducing as Barrow’s off-kilter turntable work and unsettling electronics.

And it’s not Gibbons’ words that do the damage – it’s how they’re said. Roads – the sort of contemporary masterpiece that in a parallel universe is being wheeled out on The X Factor and reducing Simon Cowell to floods of tears – is the best example of how Gibbons’ technique surpasses any lyrical content. The tone is familiar, an unspecified collapse, potential or assured but surely emotional, is spoken of; but the way she signs off a repeated line with a certain pronunciation of "wrong" is utterly arresting. It’s a shapeless sigh of beaten-down anguish, and there’s more heartache and pain in this single second than a whole rack of by-the-book balladeers.

Imitators have come and gone, but no act has reproduced the disquieting magnificence conjured here except Portishead themselves. The band’s next album, an eponymous effort of 1997, distanced them from the coffee tables that (wholly unexpectedly) had made room for Dummy; to some it’s a superior listen, though a lot colder and harder than its predecessor. And their overdue comeback of 2008, Third, embraced krautrock motifs to take an established sound into a new dimension. But to many, Dummy is the group’s defining work – and even if you disagree with that, what can’t be doubted is that this is one of the greatest debuts of the 1990s”.

I am going to wrap up with this review from Pitchfork. The final parts of it. In their 2017 review, Pitchfork stated how Portishead created their own virtuosity and aura. A combination of technology, musicianship and passion:

“Their sense of contrast is particularly noticeable in the album’s rhythms. Barrow’s lickety-split vinyl scratching helps counterbalance the uniformly sluggish tempos, but the real action is in their breakbeats. In “Mysterons,” the looped snare rolls sound like a steel trap snapping shut and being pried back open in quick succession. The “Sour Times” beat resembles James Brown’s iconic “Funky Drummer” break, but transposed for a planet with only half of Earth’s gravity. “Wandering Star” and “Numb,” on the other hand, push forward as though running underwater, every beat a struggle against an overwhelming force. Track after track, the album toggles between crisp steppers and deadweight friction, between ping-ponging ricochets and Sisyphus’ last stand.

This groove was their invention, and theirs alone. Unlike most of their peers, Portishead didn’t rely on the same hoary Ultimate Breaks and Beats bootlegs that fueled the majority of the era’s club tracks. Their music may sound like the work of a couple of obsessive vinyl connoisseurs, but the irony is that they made most of it themselves. Some musicians speak of soundtracks to imaginary films; they created an imaginary soundtrack to use as their source material. Assisted by the drummer Clive Deamer, Barrow and Utley would jam in the studio, creating their own approximations of the ’60s music that inspired them. Once they had their songs engineered on 24-track tape, they’d take the final product and feed it back into their samplers; some material they even pressed onto vinyl dubplates, to manipulate the way a hip-hop producer would cut up breakbeats. Not quite a band, hardly a strictly electronic project, they had to invent their own kind of virtuosity, one that encompassed musicianship, technology, and aura. “It’s the air around the thing,” Barrow told The Wire. “What we are trying to do is create this air, this atmosphere: It’s the stuff that’s in between the hi-hat and the snare that you can’t hear, but if it wasn’t there you would notice it, it would be wrong.”

This air was the medium through which Gibbons’ voice soared. Would Portishead have been one-tenth the band they turned out to be had Barrow and Utley contented themselves with instrumentals, or hired session singers to lend a soulful patina at freelance rates? Not on your life. Gibbons’ voice is the center of the music; she elevates the recordings from tracks to songs, from mere head-nodders to forlorn lullabies.

She follows the contours of her voice along its breathy edge, cutting sharply through the meat of a glissando, falling back on the catch in her throat. Despite her convincing air of sorrow, she’s a knowing, playful singer, capable of shifting emotional registers on a dime, cycling through moods—jazzy and coquettish, grimly resigned, wild with grief—like a housefly tracing squares in empty space. In “Wandering Star,” her tone sounds almost flirtatious, despite the overwhelming vastness of her subject matter: “Wandering stars/For whom it is reserved/The blackness, the darkness, forever.” In the closing “Glory Box,” on the other hand, she is as incendiary as Utley’s overdriven guitar riffs, and when she sings, “This is the beginning/Of forever and ever, oh,” her sigh feels like a hole torn in the fabric of the universe.

And her occasional obliqueness frequently gives way to the album's real emotional payoff: out-and-out dejection. Some lines stand out as clearly as dog-eared diary entries: “Give me a reason to love you/Give me a reason to be a woman”; “Nobody loves me, it’s true/Not like you do”; “How can it feel this wrong?” When her words are hazy, her diction tricky, it might as well be part of a grand and treacherous strategy, like a boxer’s footwork catching you off guard before the knockout punch lands.

Without a public persona to measure Gibbons’ performance against, her presence within the songs was, and remains, that much more formidable. Pop fans typically like to know who is singing to them and why, even if it's an invented character. But that central mystery only makes Dummy that much more compelling. Who is this lovelorn woman marching off to war on “Roads,” her broken pleas part sigh, part icicle? Who will she become on the far side of forever and ever—the promised land of “Glory Box,” an uncharted territory that she makes sound both liberating and terrifying? Dummy arrived at a moment when young people were craving soundtracks for the comedown—but what happens when you follow Portishead all the way down, as far as they want to take us? These questions keep you coming back, trying to puzzle out its intimidating balance between bleakness and blankness.

It’s possible to hear in Dummy a collection of gratifyingly sad-but-sexy gestures, and plenty of Portishead’s followers—Lamb, Morcheeba, Olive, Alpha, Mono, Hooverphonic, Sneaker Pimps, and dozens of other acts forever lost to the cut-out bin of history—did just that. Whole retail empires flourished and collapsed while Portishead and their ilk were piped through the in-store speakers. Is Dummy stylish? Of course it is; you don’t evoke ’60s spy flicks without some deep-seated feelings about aesthetics, panache, the proper cut of a suit. But style, stylishness, is only the beginning. None of Portishead’s imitators understood that it’s not the blue notes or the mood lighting that make it tick—it’s the pockets of emptiness inside. Like Barrow once said, it’s the air”.

On 22nd August, Dummy turns thirty. A staggering and iconic debut album from the trio of Geoff Barrow, Beth Gibbons and Adrian Utley, Portishead would go on to record two more albums – 1997’s Portishead and 2008’s Third. I wonder whether they will ever release a fourth. In any case, Dummy was a huge statement of a debut. It turns thirty very soon, so I was keen to explore it. If you have not heard Dummy for a while then take some time out. It is an album that will…

TAKE your breath away.