Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements.
Although the title sounds like something concocted by Aphex Twin while waiting for the 3.15 to King’s Cross, Stereolab’s second album is in fact an enjoyable piece of quintessential 90’s indie. The droning, grungelike guitar chords and repetitive drum beats, occassionally accompanied by not-entirely-out-of-place electronic organs, work beautifully with Lætitia Sadier’s vocals. Occasionally resembling that of Debbie Harry, and at times of Nico, whether in French or English Sadier’s lyrics belie the upbeat minimalistic instrumental accompaniment. Apparent none more so than on the only single spawned from the album, “Jenny Ondioline”, an 18 minute epic that feels like the soundtrack to dancing in your mates living room at 6am, with that final stick of chewing gum, still awake after a night in a sweaty warehouse on the outskirts of Manchester. Upon closer inspection however it is a nihilistic view of society, with reference to the rise of the far right extremism in the early 90s, drawing a parallel with post World War I Germany, and yet a hopeful reminder of art’s persistant ability to resist.
A Meeting by the River.
Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream. This dreamlike, indian infused blues record is pure music. How such emotion can be expressed with so few instruments, and not a single word uttered is astounding. Cooder and Bhatt lead us to the river by weaving an ambiguous tale, and as the proverbial horse, it is we that must drink from it by filling in the neccessary details. The timelessness and almost otherworldliness of Bhatt’s Mohan veena paired with Cooder’s slide guitar give the impression that this album would not be out of place in a foggy student halls of residence kitchen nor in the foyer of the palace of the Sultan of Brunei. Cooder and Bhatt were awarded the Grammy for Best World Music Album for this piece and, although I haven’t heard any of the other nominees, there is absolutely no doubt that they deserved it.
Suede.
Don’t step on the cool Suede blues. This album gave me something of an existential crisis. I was all too familar with the backcatalogues of Oasis and Blur, Pulp a little less so but I’d still listened to one or two of their records. Suede, the remaining member of the Britpop “Big Four”, I had barely given any mind to. Well if this is the kind of art I’m passive about, what the blood fuck am I doing with my life? Their debut album is commonly credited as the beginning of Britpop and yet, rightfully so, Suede continually distance themselves from the term. Though the characteristics of Britpop are present, Suede transcend multiple genres and the influence of Bowie and The Smiths is abundently clear. Anderson’s lyrics, on “Pantomime Horse” in particular, are eerily reiminscent of Morrissey’s melancholic poetry. The overall sound of the album has easily perserved the 27 years since it’s release, and by the time 1994 comes around on this adventure, Suede’s second album “Dog Man Star” will certainly be included on the list.
Vs.
Pearl Jam’s second album, following their breakthrough debut “Ten”, is another record from 1993 that incorporates a multitude of genres, and yet is unmistakably unique. The verging-on-metal sound of “Go”, the soft rock ballad “Daughter”, the bass-heavy funk of “Rats”, all injected with Vedder’s iconic vocals. Vedder’s lyrical writing on “Vs.” also demands attention, with topics that are still, unfortunately, as relevant today as they were then; the gun-worshipping culture of America on “Glorified G” and the inherent racism of police on “W.M.A”. “Vs.” has easily withstood the test time, evident in the fact that it’s influence is heard throughout the indie and rock scene of the early 21st century. Recommend to anyone with ears. Even one ear would do. You earless lot are right out though.
No Need For Alarm.
The follow up to his debut “I Wish My Brother George Was Here”, “No Need For Alarm” marks a shift in Del the Funky Homosapien’s sound. Del’s low, minimalist beats project his voice and, more importantly, his lyrics to the forefront. This bravery is not commonly repeated in hip-hop in general, with over elaborate production and sampling masking the MC’s rapping ability. The dark and often violent imagery that Del conveys so clearly, no less prominent than on the title track, is morbidly emotive, even to someone as “white like talcum” as me. Del’s producing on this album is also worth crediting; his backing tracks and lyrics pair perfectly to create a high quality record with a more laid back sound than what was found on the hip-hop scene at the time.
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