MICK TERRY – The Grown Ups

the grown ups

With its lyrical themes and stories from the past loosely inspired by a diary from 1982, you could say this debut by London based singer-songwriter Mick Terry has been a long time in the making. ‘The Grown Ups’ is a personal record, but not in the soul-baring sense. It’s an album of lost friendships, relationship and closure which always retains a smile of optimism.

‘Hoxton Son’ opens the disc with simple, stabbing pianos with a gentle bass accompaniment. At the point where you think it’s about to elevate into Jellyfish ‘Ghost at Number One’ territory, Terry goes for a key change, but little more. Naturally, the rumpty-tumpty drums appear eventually – and by the time they do, the sound of the whole band is warm and inviting, without becoming intrusive. The sampled brass near the end isn’t entirely necessary, but on the whole, this paean to a London town has a charming quality, effectively pulling the listener into Terry’s musical world. ‘Northern Exposure’ follows suit with a similar marching feel – this time bringing more focus to the acoustic guitar. The mix of guitar and organ is effective and unfussy.

The acoustic based ‘Comets’ features slide guitar and accordion, but the heart of the song is provided by guitar and brushed drums. Terry’s storytelling approach comes with a heart warming quality and often unassuming manner. The chorus has a vocal approach which at first feels like it may irritate, but after a few listens becomes oddly endearing. The lead vocal has an intimate feel and a sound which reminds me very much of another London based singer-songwriter, Rich Barnard. I’m not sure whether that’s down to song writing style, or just the work of his English accented delivery. ‘Ringing Like a Bell’ has a very seventies feel, with tasteful electric guitar leads to punctuate the acoustic work. The warm bass and handclaps lend themselves to a tune with a very complete feel.

For the last couple of songs, the quality tails off. In keeping with the 1970s,
‘Tinseltown’ is pure easy listening; it doesn’t have the cool or song writing chops to make Mick Terry an heir to Billy Joel’s vacant piano stool, but certainly tips the hat to Andrew Gold. While Terry’s soft vocal and tales of jaded seaside towns and days past show strength, the music could have done with a little more embellishment – more than the ambling keyboard and drum machine featured.
Normally, I’m much more critical on singer-songwriter material which relies on programmed elements as opposed to more organic sounds, but Terry’s song writing has enough charm to get away with it here (but only just). Similarly, the keyboard string sounds which propel ‘Safe From Sound’ sound cheap, but an understated bass accompaniment and decent vocal performance (including a Brian Wilson inspired interlude) make the best of what could have been a dud. References to Small Faces’ ‘Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake’ and especially “The first Dexys album” reinforce the Englishness of Mick Terry’s teenage years. If viewed as a demo sketch, it’s easy to see what he was intending here, but this number doesn’t sound like a finished work – and certainly isn’t up to the quality of ‘Hoxton Son’, ‘Northern Exposure’ or ‘Comets’.

Featuring just eight songs and a reprise, ‘The Grown Ups’ is a succinct work, with the strongest tracks front-loaded; but two or three absolute gems held within provide more than enough reason for making it an album worth visiting…and revisiting.

February 2011

INXS – Original Sin

originalsin

After the release of ‘Kick’ in 1987, I became a massive INXS fan. It was soon obvious I had to hear the rest of their albums. ‘Kick’s immediate predecessor ‘Listen Like Thieves’ offered me more of the same, but their earlier albums took a little more time to get into; although they still contained lots of great songs, the overall sound had more in common with new wave than the stadium rock which gained INXS their international stardom.

When vocalist Michael Hutchence died in 1997, I figured that would be the end of INXS, since they’d not only lost a distinctive vocalist but also a great frontman. They carried on, however, firstly with Terence Trent D’arby – a union which (I’m glad) amounted to nothing. Then came the news that ex-Noiseworks vocalist Jon Stevens would be touring with INXS as vocalist. Coming from another respected Aussie rock band, this was a move which seemed to make sense. Sadly, Stevens only held the position briefly and INXS found themselves without a vocalist once again.

In 2004, they held auditions for a full time replacement via a TV talent show. I despise TV talent shows, and the fact that a band I loved were about to whore themselves in such a way to find a new frontman reeked of desperation. However, the band hooked up with the winner JD Fortune and recorded an album, ‘Switch’ (released in 2005). Against the odds, the album was solid – if never destined to be a classic – but INXS’s glory days seemed to be over. In the UK at least, ‘Switch’ went straight into the bargain bins.

As half a decade passed, seemingly without a word or any new material, I thought I’d heard the last of INXS. And then, in November 2009 Atco Records released ‘Original Sin’ – an album of INXS classics re-imagined and re-recorded with guest vocalists. Since the project featured a couple of performers I enjoy, I’d hoped the results would be interesting (as per Ray Davies’s ‘See My Friends’), but sadly, you’d have to be an absolute die-hard fan to want to spend money on this.

A newly recorded track ‘Drum Opera’ does exactly what it says on the tin, providing a couple of minutes of percussion, before trip-hop king Tricky arrives to put his stamp on ‘Mediate’. What ensues is a dull performance over an electronic dance loop which, in places, is completely uninspired. As the track progresses, the dance loop becomes more energised, eventually morphing something you might want to dance to, but Tricky’s performance continues to hover somewhere between flat and flat-out grating. I’d hoped that Rob Thomas would perk things up with his rendition of ‘Original Sin’ (one of INXS best “pop” tunes), since the sometime Matchbox Twenty frontman has a great voice. Instead of tackling in it in a respectable Matchbox Twenty manner, someone decided that getting Rob to team up with DJ Yaldiys would be a better plan. This results in another dance track – and somehow, it ends up worse than Tricky. It’s awful, uninspired rubbish which not even Thomas can save – and when you think it couldn’t get any worse, he’s joined by a woman speaking in French. (I’m not being xenophobic; this just seems to be a rather pointless exercise).

Next up is the classic ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ – which not only is one of the absolutely classic INXS tunes, but possibly one of the best songs written by anybody. It’s re-imagined here by French singer, actress and author Mylene Farmer, who, naturally, sings a good proportion of it in French. For the epic sounding choruses (which have been given a subtle-as-a-brick string backing), she’s joined by Ben Harper. Normally, I’m a fan, but Ben over-sings and wails his lines; his attempts at breathing life into this absolute mess are almost laughable. Nikka Costa’s reading of ‘Kick’ is unrecognisable; the punchy arrangement of the original is replaced by a mid-pace, heavy on keyboards and drums – over which Costa stetches her vocal. He voice isn’t unpleasant, but all the same, the end result isn’t spectacular. If you’re a firm believer in artists making covers their own, then Costa is likely to present one of ‘Original Sin’s standout tracks, even if it lacks the spark of the original version.

Train’s Pat Monahan tries his absolute best with ‘Beautiful Girl’, and yet, his best still doesn’t seem quite good enough. The musical arrangement features an impeccably played acoustic guitar, accompanied by sparingly used piano, which is joined in turn by other keyboards and electric guitar flourishes. By the time Jon Farriss’s drum kit kicks in, Monahan’s breathy vocals sound very comfortable. This version dispenses with the programmed drum elements from the INXS original, but that’s the only real improvement, since it also loses Kirk Pengilly’s emotive sax work and adds a big rock finish which the song never really needed. The original version of ‘New Sensation’ is an eighties classic – its choppy guitars still sound great after so many years. The version recorded here with model/singer Deborah De Corral is reinterpreted as an acoustic stomp. Such an arrangement, with its slight country twang manages to be sympathetic to De Corral’s vocal style and, for once, the band hasn’t wrecked a great tune. [INXS appeared previously on Australian television with former Baby Animals vocalist Suze DeMarchi performing ‘New Sensation’ with the same arrangement. Video clip featured below.]

Aussie singer/songwriter Dan Sultan takes the helm for ‘Just Keep Walking’ and while his husky delivery suits the song, the music is a little muddled. A reggae-ish lilt bolstered by a horn section which sounds like a marching band isn’t especially effective. The whole package almost works, but feels a little claustrophobic. Similarly, Eskimo Joe’s Kav Temperley’s take on ‘To Look At You’ almost hits the mark. With a strong vocal delivery, he shows signs of understanding what made Hutch a great singer, even if he doesn’t sound like him.

The closing numbers feature INXS recreating their old tunes without the help of guest performers. This makes for better listening, though still doesn’t offer any improvement over the original recordings. Kirk Pengilly and Andrew Farriss take the stadium classic ‘Don’t Change’ and reduce it to a passionless, semi-acoustic trudge, absolutely lacking any of the power or passion of the original 1983 recording. However, if it’s power and passion you’re after, look no further than JD Fortune’s treatment of ‘The Stairs’. The original rock/pop arrangement of the INXS original is beefed up considerably with strings, an extremely loud drum kit and a vocalist hell bent on getting absolute “rock star” posturing from every note. It’s stupidly overblown, yet somehow it works. He gives a similar performance on ‘Love Is What I Say’ [an Australian iTunes bonus track], but clearly his overwrought theatrics can’t stretch to a second track without sounding forced.

Although a couple of these tracks are okay, based on the last couple of numbers, the band would have been better off issuing a whole album of re-recorded INXS classics fronted by JD Fortune. But even then, you still wouldn’t choose them over the original recordings – not in a million years. INXS have been struggling as a band since the death of Michael Hutchence. ‘Original Sin’ is the work of a still struggling band – maybe they ought to have thrown in the towel in 1997.

Watch INXS with Suze DeMarchi here.

February 2010

PJ HARVEY – Let England Shake

PJ Harvey

Over the years, Polly Jean Harvey is an artist who has gathered lots of great press. While never gaining status of national treasure, she’s gained a loyal fan base. She’s recorded a handful of tunes I like [‘Sheela-Na-Gig’, ‘Down By The Water’ and especially ‘Henry Lee’, though the latter has almost everything to with the presence of Nick Cave], but I must confess as to never having understood the fuss. A couple of people suggested I check out her 2000 release ‘Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea’, claiming it’s smoother edges could provide an easier entry point to her music, but I found that rather dull. (A live show from the same year was enjoyable, but again, didn’t set my world alight).

Her eighth studio disc ‘Let England Shake’ is anything but dull. But sadly, it’s not particularly accessible either, though I suspect that Harvey has no interest in drawing in new listeners with this release. Accompanied by long time collaborators John Parish and ex-Birthday Party man Mick Harvey (no relation), PJ offers the listener twelve tunes of relative uneasy listening; twelve songs mainly concerned with England, her decline and the effects of war.

Sometimes these feelings are more forthright than others, rarely more so than on the title cut where a soldier is called to “pack up [his] troubles and head for the fountain of death”. The hard-hitting lyrics are given a musical arrangement which at times can appear almost as relentless; angry without resorting to heaviness. With almost carny-like percussion, it has a fairly original sound. It’s a shame that she approaches the number sounding like a second rate Siouxsie Sioux. ‘The Last Living Rose’, musically, is one of the album’s most accessible numbers, with fantastic bass work and baritone saxes. Overlaid by a clanging autoharp and live sounding drums, this provides a great base for one of PJ’s more restrained vocals.

While at first, the rumbling bass and jangly guitars give the impression that ‘The Glorious Land’ is going to be just as accessible, it’s quickly punctuated by a trumpet reveille, which appears at random intervals, caring not to fit in with the music. The unsettling nature of the arrangement is matched only by Harvey’s anger and her lyrics, which here, bare a frightening set of teeth – especially as she states that our country is ploughed by tanks and marching feet and bares the fruit of orphaned children. Similarly off kilter is ‘Written On The Forehead’s reggae backdrop, which appears very much at odds with the track’s electronic treatments and Harvey’s gentle vocal.

For ‘England’ PJ squawks about her never-ending love for Blighty in a particularly off-key manner, set against stark acoustic backing. As the track progresses, the acoustic guitar is met by a mesh of other noise and backwards tapes – none of which are used in a manner which makes Harvey’s vocal delivery any more palatable. For all but the most tolerant PJ Harvey fan, this represents the best point on the album to leave the room and go and make a very British cup of Rosie Lee. ‘The Words That Maketh Murder’ employs a drum pattern which hints at tribalism, but set against a reverbed, old school guitar end up having more of a retro rock ‘n’ roll feel. The baritone sax makes a welcome return but is underused. Backing vocals from Squire and Harvey mesh with PJ’s lead, resulting in something very effective. With another political message and each band member given plenty of breathing space, this is undoubtedly the album’s best number – and certainly one of it’s most accessible. A tale of trenches, ‘Battleship Hill’ captures PJ’s voice at its purest, as she hits long, clear notes without resorting to shrieking or somehow being difficult. Backed with retro sounding guitars, an understated male baking vocal and piano, it’s the closest ‘Let England Shakes’ gets to something beautiful.

‘The Colour of The Earth’ is a plodding number which sees John Parish step up for a co-lead vocal. His tone has elements of a weary English folkie, but his slightly drawly delivery makes the already simplistic arrangement drag its heels even more. In harmony with PJ’s lighter tone (which here makes no attempt to unnerve) it sounds pleasant enough. It’s possible something relatively ordinary was placed at the album’s close in an attempt to wind things down from the preceding anger and intensity, but such an uninteresting arrangement makes for a bit of an anti-climax.

Lyrically, most of ‘Let England Shake’ is striking, but often the references are so linear – but even so, it could be the most vital release of Harvey’s career. It’s the work of an angry forty-something who wishes to share her grievances and attempt to address important issues. While the sharp edges are necessary here, Harvey’s shrill and often quirky vocal style can be difficult to listen to and at times this gets in the way of the album’s politics. PJ Harvey is undoubtedly preaching to the converted though – and her many fans will take the stark messages of ‘Let England Shake’ to their collective hearts.

February 2011

OUR LADY PEACE – Burn Burn

our lady peace

I’ve followed Our Lady Peace’s career since the release of their major label debut, ‘Naveed’. As far as debuts go, that album was okay; it showed a band who were more than musically competent and they had a great vocalist in Raine Maida. There was room for improvement though… Aside from the Cult sounding ‘Starseed’ and the title track (which was one of the only tracks to feature Raine’s brilliant vocal quirks), the rest of the album was made up of solid but ultimately ordinary post-grunge rock tunes.

By the time of their second album, ‘Clumsy’, Our Lady Peace had progressed substantially. The album had similar post-grunge roots to their debut, but the band had expanded their sound, lightening up in places and bringing in traces of power pop and occasional pianos. Their songwriting approach was far more varied and Raine Maida had really learnt to use his voice in an interesting way, changing pitch erratically at times – although never purely for dramatic effect and never at the expense of the songs. The band took those elements that made their second album great and really worked on them over the next few years, resulting in two brilliant albums, ‘Happiness…Is Not a Fish You Can Catch’ and ‘Spiritual Machines’.

The band resorted to a more straight ahead stadium rock sound, harking back to parts of ‘Naveed’ for 2002’s ‘Gravity’ – possibly at the suggestion of heavyweight producer Bob Rock, best known for his work on Metallica’s multi-platinum selling Black Album. While not as interesting as the previous three albums, it was better than ‘Naveed’ thanks to the band being more confident and turning in some great songwriting. At this point, it seemed the band could do no wrong.
And then, after a three year recording hiatus, Our Lady Peace released ‘Healthy In Paranoid Times’ – an album which has nothing of any real worth within its 12 songs. On that album, the band sounds as if they’re going through the motions. Raine Maida slips even farther away from the quirky vocal traits he used on ‘Happiness…’ and ‘Spiritual Machines’ and this only serves to make the album feel even more laboured. The sleeve notes claim the band wrote and recorded 43 songs during the album’s sessions, so I can only but wonder how they came to choose 12 really dull ones for the end product.

In the five year gap between the release of ‘Paranoid Times’ and ‘Burn Burn’, vocalist Raine Maida embarked on a solo career; his solo album ‘The Hunter’s Lullaby’ adopted more of a stripped down singer-songwriter slant. After a five year band absence, I had major reservations about Our Lady Peace’s return. Since they took three years to deliver ‘Healthy In Paranoid Times’, were they about to disappoint a second time after so long away? Would Raine Maida’s solo activities have any impact on the band’s sound? I knew if the album turned out to be as forgettable as ‘…Paranoid Times’ it would be time for me to part company with a band I’d followed for a decade and a half.

With a lot riding on it, ‘Burn Burn’ made an immediate impact with me. For a majority of the album, Our Lady Peace opt for a mid-paced rock sound; one that rocks stadiums and fills airwaves. Raine Maida steers away from his old style quirkier vocals again, but here, it doesn’t matter so much as it did before, since the songs themselves are incredibly strong. The simplicity running through ‘Burn Burn’s ten songs gives the album a solid backbone and with that, Our Lady Peace play to their strengths.

‘All You Did Was Save My Life’ begins the album with one of the more upbeat numbers. Driven by Steve Mazur’s choppy guitars, it’s a track which is unmistakably Our Lady Peace. I may still wish on occasion that Maida would revert to his old vocal style, but it cannot be denied that even with this more conventional approach, his voice is still a strong one, even if not as distinctive as it once had been. This track is also notable for having been co-written with Zac Maloy (one-time frontman with post-grunge band The Nixons – possibly one of the most under-rated bands ever).

The big chorus and ringing guitars during ‘The End Is Where We Begin’ call to mind a couple of the songs from ‘Gravity’; here each band member plays a key role – the rhythm section of Duncan Coutts and Jeremy Taggart drive the song with a gentle chug on the verses, but it’s the chorus where things shift up a gear. The song hangs on a giant chorus and if you need a timely reminder of why Our Lady Peace are great, this is it. Also adopting a stadium rock approach, ‘Dreamland’ is a high point. Another mid paced affair, it features a tack piano on the verses before resorting to a more predictable heavy guitar riff for the big chorus. It’s typical of the kind of thing 30 Seconds To Mars wish they could have written, but just don’t have enough chops.

‘Monkey Brains’ is another up tempo track; I’d say it’s not quite as memorable as most of the album but still has some great moments: Duncan Coutts’s bass work is aggressive and upfront during the closing section, but for me, it’s the acoustic mid-section which is the song’s best feature. It has a quality which will seem instantly familiar to anyone who’s followed the band for some time. There’s a moment I could swear Maida is about to break into ‘Superman’s Dead’; it’s great to know that despite the band having become more commercial over their previous couple of releases, this album brings out just a little of the Our Lady Peace of old. The falsetto vocal parts may be a past luxury, but maybe the world’s still a subway after all.

‘Escape Artist’ is a pop/rock track driven by a bass drum and tambourine rhythm during its verses, which is played against a subtle guitar part. The song’s hook isn’t anywhere near as big as some on the album, but the track still features some great elements – namely wah-wah guitar and understated piano work. Although not especially obvious in the overall mix, it’s great to hear the piano playing a role, since it was the piano part on the title track from the ‘Clumsy’ album which caught my ear and really pushed Our Lady Peace up in my estimation, back in 1997.
The piano comes to the fore for the brooding ballad ‘Never Get Over You’, a track with a very 21st Century “alternative” sound – and obviously, by that, I mean it fits in with the post millennium trend of labelling anything vaguely guitar driven as “alternative”. This is probably going to sound like a put-down, but the song’s slightly plodding nature reminds me a little of Snow Patrol, if they were slightly tougher and could write more interesting songs. Even so, if this track represents ‘Burn Burn’ at its weakest, it’s obvious that with this album Our Lady Peace are on a winning streak.

‘Paper Moon’ finds the band rocking out a bit more, but it’s still in the mid-paced mould of a lot of the songs on ‘Burn Burn’. It’s notable, since it’s one of the tracks which utilises backing vocals most obviously; they add weight to the chorus by mirroring the lead vocal, but can also be found bubbling under a blistering lead guitar courtesy of Steve Mazur. Since it’s probably Mazur’s most aggressive work on the album, you could be forgiven for not taking much notice of whatever else happens to be going on!

There are no dud songs here. Those who liked the more straight ahead approach of ‘Gravity’ (in particular, those listeners whom became fans with the release of that album) will find ‘Burn Burn’ enjoyable. It’s restored my faith in the band and while it’s not as inventive as some of the band’s earlier works, it’s certainly a very welcome addition to the Our Lady Peace catalogue.

June 2010