Off to the library again. Is it really three weeks already? After last time’s superb haul, my expectations were low. What did I find?
Beach Boys, “The Very Best of the Beach Boys”: I am confirmed in my opinion that I have no real need to venture far into this territory beyond where I have already ventured, viz “Pet Sounds”, “Good Vibrations”, and the curious fascination we all have with “Smile”.
Antony and the Johnsons, “I Am A Bird Now”: can’t see the Nina Simone comparisons, actually; early Brian Ferry is more on the mark. Which (obviously) is not a criticism. This is a spellbinding song-cycle, best listened to late at night with the lights down. I will be spending a lot more time with this record. A lot more time.
Jens Lekman, “When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog”: two Secretly Canadian releases in one week (see also Antony and the Johnsons above). Mr Lekman has been leaking his fluids all over the Internet of late. A number of songs have seeped into my own hardware, quickly becoming unexpected favourites. And here is an album. An album with a title that suggests a location somewhere between the twin pillars of “If I Said You Had A Beautiful Body Would You Hold It Against Me” and “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog”. Lekman combines the lyrical dexterity of Stephin Merritt with the innocent charm of Jonathan Richman, and adds to that his own ability to spin both a tune and a yarn. There is so much to enjoy about this album. I wish I could keep it. That’s all I want to say.
Solomon Burke, “Make Do With What You Got”: there will always be room on my hard drive for “Don’t Give Up On Me”; a fine collection of songs from a fine group of writers; a fine voice and fine arrangements. Just fine, really. So this follow-up never really stood a chance. What I do know is that he shouldn’t have tried to meet Doctor John on the good Doctor's own turf; it only reminds me of those white boys of the early 80s or thereabouts who tried to "do" reggae: step forward Men at Work; step forward 10cc (obviously, The Clash are exepted). Make do with what you got, indeed.
Esquivel, “More of Other Worlds, Other Sounds”: hard to believe it is ten years now since Lounge Music got the revival treatment. Of course, for some of us, our love of exotic music both pre-dated and lived beyond that revival. It will be interesting to see the reissues of Martin Denny, Les Baxter etc filtering back into second-hand stores, to replace the originals that were greedily snapped up in the mid-90s (and then re-sold to the gullible at exponential mark-ups, but that's a road I've been down before). Meanwhile the late Mr Esquivel still stands tall in his own field. In my naive early days I didn't understand why Esquivel failed to rate a mention in Joseph Lanza’s book on the subject; but of course Esquivel was really anything but “elevator music”: if anything, the relentless frenzy of his arrangements is closer to John Zorn’s more choppy works. The best fruit to have dropped from the Esquivel tree may well have landed on those two Irwin Chusid collections, but that is not to say there is nothing else out there to be enjoyed. This disc, a straight reissue of one of the original Esquivel LPs, is as good a way as any I can think of to spend 35 minutes of your valuable time.
De Phazz, “Natural Fake”: maybe I have been listening to this the wrong way; or trying too hard. I guess the German pedigree had me expecting something a little more interesting, but after three spins of this, all I hear is lowest-common-denominator pan-European “new soul”. A little too close to Sade for my liking.
Goldfrapp, “Black Cherry”: ditto. At least the beats and blips on this one give it a little bit of traction; but one wonders what this is doing on Mute.
LCD Soundsystem, “LCD Soundsystem”: the LCD Soundsystem parlour game has probably gone on for long enough. Oh, look; it’s Talking Heads’ “I Zimbra”. Oh, look, it’s Mark E Smith. Oh, look, it’s “Another Green World”. And so on. But does it stack up on its own? Yes of course it does. It’s like having your own record collection melted down and reconfigured into one convenient, easily digestible package. And there can’t be anything wrong with that, can there? Disc 2, the singles collection, stands on its own and is indispensable. “Losing My Edge” may, in fact, be the greatest song of all time. And as for the person who put the annotated lyrics up on their web site, with links to song fragments from every band mentioned in the song: dude, I am so not worthy.
