Music
When Sigur Ros first appeared on British shores they managed to bring with them a sound that was unmistakably that of Iceland. Now it is the turn of the Norwegians to share their homeland with us, in the form of this ambient package. Though Kings of Convenience may have brought attention back to that corner of Scandinavia in the last year, they did not quite capture the natural feel of the snow, forests and fjords in the same manner, soft and touching though their debut was. With Melody A.M., Royksopp seem to have found the perfect soundtrack to a winter wonderland, full of warmth and vibrancy within, but also possessing a haunting awareness of the frost lying outside.
At a time when chill-out music is apparently the way to go, these two Norwegians seem to have timed their arrival to perfection. Similar to Air and Groove Armada, Svein Berge and Torbjorn Brundtland's ambient tinklings wash over you in funky tides, taking you as far from a bleak mid-winter in Oxford as you could possibly wish to be. The title of the opening track, 'So Easy' says it all as they competently and effortlessly weave their way from its shoe-shufflingly cool funk, through the lightly chilled house of recent single 'Poor Leno' with haunting guest vocals by Kings of Convenience's own Erlend Oye, to the claustrophobic and incessant rumblings of 'Royksopp's Night Out'; a song to walk down the street nodding your head to if ever there was one. Indeed, as the occasional bursts of synths shoot across your consciousness you can almost see the northern lights doing the same across the horizon of the frozen Norwegian countryside. Similarly the trickling and chiming keyboard lines on 'Eple' instantly transport you to the flowing fjords, and it is this distinctively natural feel which lends the album as a whole a distinct advantage over its competitors. For all the cheerful cheekiness of 'Sexy Boy', Air have not really reached the same natural and genuinely emotive heights as passages of Melody A.M. do.
That said of course, there are times when things do veer that little bit too far towards tried and tested ambient paths and it has been known for attention to wane at these points. Indeed, as anyone with a vague knowledge of Air will be able to recognise, there is even the customary track which has clearly been made for an oh-so-slick porn movie in 'She's So'. But, despite such quibbles Melody A.M. remains one of the most impressive debuts of its type for years, though whether they manage to stop Mum going to Iceland and get her over to Norway instead remains to be seen.
Fresh from her exploits with Christina, Li'l Kim and Maya down at the Moulin Rouge, Pink's now back out on her own, attempting to encourage your good selves to get the life and soul of the soiree into full swing. Does she succeed? Well, conclusive evidence is currently lacking, but there is an interesting precedent, whose example could well be useful. It was the summer of the year 2000; Ali G was being heralded as the new Peter Sellars by a certain Mrs Ritchie, and employed as a chauffeur to boot. For those of you who are still confused, Madonna's single 'Music' topped the charts and had millions grooving away across the world. The relevance of this? Well, to be honest, musically this is very very similar. The beat, the guitar lines, the syncopated bass; all working together to convince you that this is indeed the queen of pop. It's not like they even attempted to hide it; the instrumental version makes it blindingly obvious. Pink's vocals are impressive, and she should be commended on the fact that she refrains from 'warbling' (technical term; see Christina Aguilera and Destiny's Child for further examples), until the last twenty seconds. It's still not very good though; an observation which brings into question quite how good the 'original' was. I'm saying nothing.
This EP begins with an instrumental, called 'Heaven and Earth'. It is much in the style of Radiohead, during the time of the Airbag EP, even down to the booming bass whacked right up in the mix. It eases you in, stylishly, but the band switch style in 'Gone', a promenading number about regret and remembrance, replete with maudlin keyboard chord assistance. As lovely as anything off Pulp's We Love Life, this EP domineered my stereo for a long time, ahead of said album. The other two songs continue the good work, with influences ranging from Six By Seven to New Order - they even have the strange vocals. John Samuelson sounds as if he hearkens from the Valleys, and thus a fascinating almost Welsh delivery helps them along. In 'The Future Never Happened' the lyrics tie you up in temporal intrigue: 'Every day is always yesterday, tomorrow, never today.' Perhaps a dose of irony would improve their ability to withstand the inevitable "imitators!" flak, and, like so many student bands, they sound better live. This will change with more practice in the studio. With 'Gone', Melatonin possess a gem of a song, and with 'Heaven and Earth' can stand next to MBICR with proud bluster.
This one's not going to be easy. I mean, at what stage do you really have to draw the line and say that things have just got too silly? Monty Python certainly had the right idea, and to be honest I would love to see Graham Chapman dressed as a colonel come striding in here right now, take the CD out of the player and throw it out of the window. But even that would be too good for this. Firstly, obviously there's the utter hilarity surrounding the new moniker. Seriously; what was he thinking? Secondly, there's the fact that he's released a single named after the aforementioned ridiculous moniker. The man formerly known as Puffy has managed to beat both Eminem and D12 to the dubious honour of having the most disgustingly over the top (and more fundamentally, incorrect) assessment of his own ability in rap. Which is saying something. And then we get to the song itself. Upon listening to this you may succeed in hearing the lyrics of the first verse. However, upon reaching the chorus, all memories of P. Diddy's own involvement will be forgotten, as the Neptunes proceed to spell out his name, wait for it, one and a half times. Don't ask me why, please. It really is just all too much to bear in 0th week...
"Just like the movies/We play out our last scene." You can't help but suspect that this might well be an apt comment upon the state of their career now that they're on to releasing their own material. They might last another single, but I wouldn't bet on anything much past that. Releasing a not-really-very-revolutionary-at-all-was-it? cover of 'Smooth Criminal' was an astonishingly cowardly way to break themselves onto the public, and now the fact that musically Alien Ant Farm are actually extremely conservative should become abundantly clear. 'Movies' is essentially a power ballad, but played with massive distortion and lots of palm muting during the verse. That's about it as far as nu-metal goes. The live acoustic version included as a b-side is actually far preferable, since it seems much more honest and heartfelt. As a little account of lost love it isn't actually that offensive; not massively original admittedly, but you can't have everything. A little turgid perhaps, but who said there's anything wrong with power ballads? Uh oh. Think I've let the cat out of the bag there, haven't I? Oh bugger. You can sack me but you'll never take my Celine Dion!!!
In a really perverse way, this song has been perfectly timed in its release. And no, it's not because Oxford has suddenly been taken over by a temperate Latin climate where you can wander round in sandals and excessively tasteless short-sleeved shirts (though of course, this part is entirely optional), listening to the locals playing cheesy Euro-pop from their radios through open windows. No, unfortunately this song sums up everything that is bad about returning to college life; you've had a nice little break during which you've managed to put everything you dislike about the place into the background, to such an extent that you might even naively have been (relatively) excited about returning. There I was thinking that maybe the new year would herald a slight improvement, in music if nothing else, and what do I find? This: more R'n'B tinged pop with a sprinkling of Latin flavouring (she is of Portuguese heritage you know). Shameless.
One single; 44 minutes, and including no less than five remixes. Value for money, people? Well, it might have been, if it weren't for the fact that it is utter shite. The classic Faithless formula is wheeled out again, aimed at frightfully middle-class Mercedes drivers, who like to think that they're living on the edge, and are fully at ease with the multi-cultural life of Britain (if only because Tony's told them that this is what we must be seen to embrace), because, hey, both Rollo and the sound are black. There are pseudo-tribal drum beats and everything. If you really want to know how painful this is, all you really need to know is that it sounds remarkably similar to that God-awful theme from American Beauty; a track which whilst bearable in the course of a film, was still written by a Hollywood composer and lacks any feeling, soul or emotion. As for Rollo's lyrics, I think I'll just let them speak for themselves: "Down in the shadows of your deepest secrets/I sleep next to the precepts you hold most dear". Right. Yeeeeesss.
10th Jan 2002