THEGIORNALISTI -- FUORICAMPO -- 7.5/10
Italian indie music is in something of a renaissance these days. With the growth of the Internet as a means to spread awareness of quality music, plus, I suspect, a certain need for dissociation from Italy's currently dysfunctional political situation, the 2010's has seen the proliferation of numerous excellent Italian bands. In recent years, Calcutta and I Cani have reached nearly unprecedented levels of mainstream (heh) success. Hand in hand with these new artists, ascending just as the likes of Verdena and Baustelle settle into elder-statespeople status, is Thegiornalisti. Thegiornalisti occupy a very well established niche comfortably in-between Calcutta and I Cani, combining the raw honesty of Calcutta with the electronic texture of I Cani. This comfortable middle-ground isn't the result of synthesis, however, but a mere coincidence, as upon listening to Fuoricampo, one overwhelming source of inspiration becomes evident -- '80's synthpop. And so, like an Italian, male-fronted Chvrches, Thegiornalisti provide a wealth of hooks and throwback aesthetics, with just enough sincerity to separate themselves from the mainstream, if only briefly, as Thegiornalisti have merged into contemporary pop after the tongue in cheek Completamente Sold Out much as Chvrches' latest offering sounds like the dark and poppy album that Taylor Swift should have wanted Reputation to be. More apt than the Chvrches comparison, however, is reference to the obvious '80's synthpop influence on this album, which is even recognized in words in the chorus of the album's heavy-hitter, "Fine dell'estate" (on which more later): "la colpa è tutta tua, e di qualche film anni ottanta". And these songs really do sound like they belong on the soundtrack of John Hughes high school flicks, unapologetically so. But that unapologetic homage to Thegiornalisti's influences is what makes this album, oddly, so unique. It doesn't pretend to be new or inventive, but digs so far back into what in contemporary music is supposed to be passé: the '80's pop and saccharine mopeyness (see "Proteggi questo tuo ragazzo") with a frankness that is simply disarming. This album has a lot of style to it, but what about the substance? Sounding like the '80's isn't enough to build an album around. What this album is built around is a pair of massively hooky songs with some nice hors d'oeuvres in between. Following the simple tone-setter opener, "Per Lei", the first of the two giants that bear this album on their shoulders is "Promiscuità", an irresistibly sweet homage to interpersonal intimacy with a pounding base line and melancholy synthesizers over a wide-eyed set of verses that draws you in. The images presented in this song of words whispered and spoken during late night smoke breaks echo the timeless aesthetic of the song masterfully. After this are the earnest but sdolcinata "Proteggi questo tuo ragazzi", which delivers on the same set of emotions as "Promiscuità" without quite the same energy level. The following two songs, largely interchangeable, are a nice, pensive interlude before we build up the the second highlight of this album. This interlude, the drifting "Mare Balotelli" and "L'importanza del cielo (Miyazaki)", lead into the similarly sweet and longing imagery of "Aspetto che", which leads into the confident punch of synthesizer at the start of "Fine dell'estate", a song that ultimately ends up towering over the rest of the album. Where most of the rest of these songs rested on atmosphere and nice verses, "Fine dell'estate" breaks the mold with a powerful chorus and driving riff. If there's anything to remember this album for, it's this song, which leads to the unfortunate downside of this album's construction in that it is ultimately just a vehicle for one stellar track. Maybe "Promiscuità" and "Proteggi questo tuo ragazzo" would stand on their own better if not for "Fine dell'estate", and maybe I'd actually have some recollection of the songs that come after it. It just feels like the song that should close the album, and having the comparably light fare of three more songs follow after is like taking aperitivo after secondo piatto. Sadly, I'm no longer interested in what comes afterward. Fuoricampo's greatest strength may ultimately be it's greatest weakness. Nonetheless, when I want to listen to Thegiornalisti, I still find myself drawn to the imbalanced highlights of this album than to the better constructed Completament Sold Out. Highlights include "Promiscuità", "Aspetto che", "Fine dell'estate"
RIDE -- GOING BLANK AGAIN -- 8.5/10
Ride continue to be the band I underrate to myself the most. How seriously can I take the band that recorded Carnival of Light and Tarantula? Whose guitarist went on the play bass in post-Be Here Now Oasis? Who had to give up the shoegaze limelight that they created to the likes of Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine? This was how I felt when I saw them live last year and was seriously impressed with their set (even the new stuff), and this is how I feel now when I confront the unbelievable truths that I know deep down. First of all, Ride truly were great in their day. You'll never find me not in the mood for their best moments, be it "Taste", "Like a Daydream", or "Vapour Trail". Secondly, and perhaps harder to believe, Going Blank Again, the album with the weird clown on the cover is the best Ride album, not the album with "Vapour Trail" on it and the near perfect album art. Relistening to this album always reminds me how actually impressive it is. 8:17 opener "Leave Them All Behind": captivating for the entire length (as is reissue bonus track "Grasshopper", which clocks in at 10:56). "Twisterella": possibly an all time great song, even with the closing chorus "look at Twisterella, hasn't got a fella". "Cool Your Boots", "Time of Her Time", "OX4": all great. Yes, there's some filler here after "Twisterella", but when Ride gets into their groove, the earnest and smooth intonations of Mark Gardener and the shimmering riffs of Gardener and Andy Bell hit the spot. Not to mention the unsung hero of Ride, drummer Loz Colbert, who may not be unleashed as on some of Ride's pre-Nowhere tracks (see the end of "Like a Daydream" for his most impressive work), but when you actually pay attention is providing consistently excellent and remarkably complex rhythm behind the scenes for a band that sounds effortlessly perfect. And while Ride tend to stick to a formula of clean, layered riffs and equally clean and ingenuous sounding vocals, more on this album than on their debut, they continue to do well when they mix things up, both on the lauded opening track and on thematic variations like "Time Machine". At the end of the day, however, it's the jangly pop with just a hint of their noisy shoegaze origins that makes this album so listenable, and while it doesn't break the mold like their early EP's and Nowhere did, it finds them in perhaps their best form, producing intriguing hook after hook. Sometimes you just forget that an album doesn't need to pull too many tricks to do its job. Highlights include "Leave Them All Behind", "Twisterella", "Cool Your Boots"
TEENAGE FANCLUB -- GRAND PRIX -- 8/10
Speaking of albums dominated by one song, how about Grand Prix, one of many fine post-Bandwagonesque efforts for the endearingly optimistic Scottish singer-songwriters. To get the obvious out of the way, yes, "Sparky's Dream" is one of the best songs ever written. It may be unassuming, but just listen to it. There's just something about the way it lifts off going into the chorus that is truly impressive. In many ways, much as I described for Fuoricampo, the rest of this album feels like it lacks consistency in comparison. Not to see there aren't many great moments on this album. The opening lines of "About You" continue to be exhilarating, and nearly every song is a quality piece of craftsmanship, from the sneaky-good chorus of "Mellow Doubt" to the sweet, turn-that-frown-upside-down message of "Don't Look Back" and "Verisimilitude" to the sparkly riff of "Discolite". This album forms a formidable duo with its successor, Songs From Northern Britain, of albums where every track has its charm. So why does this album still finish as runner-up to Bandwagonesque in the popular imagination? To my view, it's that maybe it's too consistent. Even with "Sparky's Dream" racing out like a shooting star to separate itself from the pack of songs on Grand Prix, to some extent this album is one uplifting, jangly pop song after another. I admire Teenage Fanclub's sunny outlook, and even moreso their consistency, considering this is the work of three main songwriters, but to some extent, warts and all, shifting from the somewhat mundane "December" and "Sidewinder" to the likes of "Alcoholiday", "Star Sign", and "The Concept" helped those songs cement themselves in my memory, perhaps as did "Everything Flows" in comparison to two unnecessary "Heavy Metals". So while I might pop into to the overall inferior A Catholic Education to hear the opening track or the stellar duo of "Critical Mass" and "Too Involved", Grand Prix provides a host of solid tracks that makes it hard for anything aside from "Sparky's Dream" to stand out. The same issue unfairly plagues, at least in my mind, the likes of Built to Spills Keep It Like A Secret, where "Carry the Zero" and sometimes "Temporarily Blind" get all of my attention. Nonetheless, it's impossible to downplay just how consistently solid this album is, and how refreshingly positive is its outlook. Highlights include "Sparky's Dream", "Verisimilitude", "Going Places".
BLUR -- THE GREAT ESCAPE -- 6.5/10
Capping off my listening trip through some albums with one monster track that completely overshadows everything else on the album, here's the album with "The Universal" on it -- Blur's follow-up to the generation defining Parklife, The Great Escape. Looking back, you may forget that this is the album that won the so-called Battle of Britpop over Oasis' (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, and perhaps assume that it was Blur's more famous third album that found itself in the ring with Oasis' heavy-hitter (which may have lost the Battle of Britpop but did start the Loudness War). I suspect if everyone could do it over, this particular battlefield was perhaps a bit misplaced. Maybe we could have had Modern Life is Rubbish or Parklife instead? Maybe even Dog Man Star or Different Class if we were lucky? But so be it, The Great Escape won, perhaps a harbinger of the death of Britpop two years later with Oasis' pompous but unsubstantial "let them eat cake" statement, Be Here Now. While Blur show they still have some ideas left in them, and would go on to follow the reinventions upon which Suede and Pulp were already embarking with one of their own in their self-titled follow-up LP, they only manage to string enough of this ideas together to make one great song and a bunch of okay songs that you can point to and say "well, this moment is good". Like, there are those background vocals in "Country House". Those are interesting. And "Best Days" is depressing, much like some other excellent Britpop music. And so is "He Thought of Cars", which has that cool intro part. Unfortunately, there's never enough to build anything truly impressive. While Modern Life is Rubbish threw hook after hook in your face until you admitted that it was brilliant, and Parklife picked up where that left off with a hooky first half and then surprised you with a dark and moody second half before closing with "This is a Low" (which needs no further description from me), The Great Escape feels like a bit of Blur by numbers. There are some classically Blur cheeky moments, but ultimately it feels like they're just trying to make another Parklife. Even "The Universal" starts out feeling like a second "To The End". Nonetheless, however, it takes the cinematic lushness and swirling chorus of that song turns it into an undeniably towering monument to Blur's tongue-in-cheek suburbanity. Capping off (although it sits dead in the middle of this 15 track album) three LP's worth of examining the meaningless mundanity of middle-class life, "The Universal" serves as the climactic statement of all of those songs about how work is dull but you do it anyway, and the struggle to find satisfaction and fulfillment from life, declaring "It really, really, really could happen. When the days they seem to fall through you, well just let them go." By The Great Escape, Blur really had "made it to the end" of the themes that had carried them through their three breakthrough albums, taking over a movement started by the enigmatic and melodramatic Suede and bringing it to the masses. Much as Suede had reached an end and hit the restart button with the neon brightness of Coming Up, Blur would have to move on from the simple yet profound guitar pop that they had exhausted to the varied influences that would drive Blur, 13, and Think Tank. Highlights include "Country House", "The Universal", "He Thought of Cars".
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