Music
Just over the Watford Gap, Doves' pianist Martin Rebelski has gone solo in true Mancunian style. Sounding like the lo-fi of Twisted Nerve pumped full of '60s garage attitude, Rebelski's debut album Thanks for Your Thoughts is the perfect chill-out album; an eight-track wonder, which only leaves you wanting more.
As befits any self-respecting member of a Manchester band, there's always a thunderstorm of gloomy atmospherics lurking at any given chance; the beautiful 'Unlikely Tale' is a volcanic explosion of melancholic psychedelia while 'Dads Hi-Fi' remains a sparkling fusion of polite music box rhythms, minimalist electronica and childlike dynamics. The acoustic psych-folk is skillfully inflected with variety, but each track is linked by the desire to slink by unnoticed. Soaring drama is conspicuously absent.
But who cares? Words? Jollity? They mean nothing. Rebelski have just made the most uplifting miserable album you'll hear all year. Wallow in it like a hot bath.
Moby's least pleasing career move was the release of 18, an album which produced the same formula as Play, his ubiquitous breakthrough. The album was good in its own right, just not particularly different.
'Sunday (The Day Before My Birthday)' is the follow-up single to 'In This World', but it's not one of the best tracks from the album. It has a typical modern Moby beat, a typical modern Moby sample, and typical modern Moby atmospherics, sounding just like you'd expect Moby to sound.
The B-sides aren't particularly interesting either - 'And I Know' is fairly generic dance-pop with whispery vocals, and overly-long at five minutes, whereas 'ISS' comes across like a much broader, slower take on some of the quieter moments from Play- the sort of music you'd expect Jean-Michel Jarre puts on when he's going to sleep.
Extra point for the aliens in the video aside, it's time for a new album - and this time Play III simply won't be good enough.
Normally, reviews start with some witty remark or comment that could then be referred to at the end of the piece giving the reader something to smirk about. No such solace to be found here. This week, I'm afraid, the offering from our Jenny from the Block has sent me into a state of shock. Seriously. I'm having to write this using a straw clamped between my teeth, because they put me in a straight jacket when they brought me in.
In all honesty, I enjoy listening to the cheese. I like reviewing the stuff that nobody else will touch. I am Mistress of the Brie, Madame of the Camembert and Guardian of the Mozzarella. I will review new tracks and new civilisations; I will boldly go where no reviewer has gone before. But this is one step too far. J-Lo sounds like Daffy Duck, LL Cool J drones like a doped-up bumblebee, and by the time I got to the line 'Chill baby / I know that you love me / I'm your homie but better / you can hold me' I was rolling on the floor and frothing at the mouth.
Then the men in white coats arrived and it all went black. Could I have another straw, please? This one's bent.
27th Feb 2003