Strap in because I’ve had a very productive month and I’ve listened to a lot of music. It all started fairly innocuously as I accidentally ended up with a theme. Going into October there were three albums I wanted to check out, and they all had one thing in common:
They were all released in 2001.
If you were around for that year, you may have significant memories of it. Me personally, I was coming out of my time as a toddler so my memories are rather thin on the ground. All I’ve got of that time period off the top of my head are the following:
- Being given a new green coat.
- Getting scared shitless by the fireworks at a bonfire and leaving after five minutes.
- Tasting gaming for the first time by playing Mario Kart 64 and GoldenEye 007.
- Bouncing about in my grandparents’ garden to the music from this particular compilation album:
Highlight for little me was “Crosstown Traffic” by Jimi Hendrix.
Anyway, for whatever reason I’ve found myself being drawn to albums from 2001 specifically, mostly from old favourites and ones I’ve been paying more and more attention to recently. And maybe because it was a turning point of a year. The new millennium was officially underway and everything suddenly seemed very futuristic. Not only that, but for a person with my music tastes the 2000s may have seemed like a last gasp for the generation of British rock the 90s bore. Hell, look at the big names of Britpop alone:
- Oasis: Released Heathen Chemistry, arguably their worst album.
- Suede: Released A New Morning, indisputably their worst album. Went on hiatus not long afterwards.
- Pulp: Left their label and went on hiatus too.
- Blur: Ditto after Graham Coxon went MIA and Think Tank came out.
- Elastica: Died on its arse without much fanfare.
- Richard Ashcroft: Released Human Conditions, got raked over the coals for it, and disappeared for a few years.
- The Divine Comedy: Split after Regeneration underperformed.
Things were changing. The world was moving on, evolving into something new. I want to see if a certain few were hedging their bets or staying the course, starting with those aforementioned three albums.
So, 2001. Whaddya got?
Manic Street Preachers, Know Your Enemy
We find the Manics at a crossroads in their journey. Not as big as their songwriter disappearing off the face of the Earth of course, but here they were once again questioning their identity. They didn’t feel like the same band they were when Richey was still around, having gone more mainstream with the almighty Everything Must Go and the serviceable This is My Truth Tell Me Yours. As they entered the 2000s, it seems they felt they needed to reclaim their identity as the loudest voices on the far left of the room. That much was obvious before Know Your Enemy was even finished, with the standalone single “The Masses Against the Classes” signalling their return to simpler, noisier, practically punky rock. However, that led me to two questions before pressing play on Know Your Enemy:
- Can they still pull it off almost a decade later?
- Can these songs justify an LP that lasts over an hour? (instinct immediately tells me no, it would’ve been better off as a two album effort a la the 2022 reissue)
Opening track “Found That Soul” is an interesting case study if you’re trying to work out how to answer question one. On the one hand, it’s got the ferocity which Holy Bible fans will have sorely missed, and on the surface it’s much less squeaky clean on the production front. However, the latter is too much of an overreaction and overcorrection – The buzziness of the guitars smothers this track and sets the tone for how poor some of the mixing on this album is. That being said, MVP of the MSPs has to be Sean Moore on drums when you can hear him, he’s got some rapid as f*ck beats to maintain.
And to answer the second question, I’m afraid my instinct was right. The sound of punk should be as authentic as they come, yet a lot of this sounds so blatantly half-baked and manufactured – from the head, not the heart. Ironically, the standout tracks are the quietest, namely “Ocean Spray”, “Let Robeson Sing”, and you know what I’ll chuck “Epicentre” in there aswell. Trouble is, they sound like they should be on a different album altogether, removed from plodders like “Dead Martyrs” and misfires like “Wattsville Blues”. The band were no longer as real as they once thought themselves. This album was the first real reminder that the Manics were sans their most important Preacher.
Schizophrenic would be the best way to describe Know Your Enemy. The Manic Street Preachers were spending too much time trying to juggle their past and present sounds that they neglected to look ahead to the future and set in stone their new sound. The pacing and flow suffers as a result, and I spent much of the second half of this record asking ‘Is it nearly over yet?’. I’ll try the reissue at some point, see if it corrects some of the issues I had with this album but if truth be told, I’m not optimistic.
Björk, Vespertine
Post and Homogenic have both been marvels, and Vespertine is often regarded as another home run for Björk. Oddly I thought I might be going into this one a bit too early, as some people call it a ‘cold’ album best heard during the winter. So, I waited for a spell of mild weather to pass and for the sun to retreat behind the clouds, and once both those things happened I decided that was patience enough.
This is the scene that was steadily drawn up in my mind the further into Vespertine I delved: It felt like I had been compelled to journey through a blizzard in a tundra, to seek shelter in a giant cave, only to once inside meet this bizarre yet endearing person who in turn feels compelled to sing these songs over a campfire to you and you alone. Everything bounces off the vacuous walls and before you know it you feel like you’re sinking into the icy floor a la Renton in Trainspotting.
Every track blossoms from their opening beat onwards. Indeed, one of the album’s oft-touted strengths is its ‘microbeats’ which lay down the foundations for each song, each one sounds unique and immediately keeps everything individual. And if it ain’t sampled sounds of cracking ice or shuffling cards, then it’s music box…never thought I’d hear that on an album, let alone praise the use of it. Alas it’s the sprinkling of sugar on the Vespertine cake, particularly on the luscious “Harm Of Will”, as the end coda for “It’s Not Up To You”, and what I funnily enough consider the coldest track of all, “Frosti”. Artsy without the fartsy. I like it.
Quick note about the lyrics too. The shy lady from the front cover of Debut is but a memory. Here we have Björk openly let her lovelife do the talking, culminating in the mantra of ‘I love him’ for the closing minute or so of “Pagan Poetry”. That’s not to say she’s gone soft though, perish the thought! The sinister side of her writing makes itself known with the eerie “An Echo, a Stain”. ‘Don’t say no to me/You can’t say no to me’. Just in time for Halloween.
It’s a natural progression from Homogenic – Continuing the minimalist electronica in contrast to Post (nowt wrong with that though), trying something new in using the most atypical of objects as instruments, creepily engaging all the while, and majestically elevated by the flourishes of strings that appear throughout. The difference between this album and the last however, is that while there is something a wee bit hostile about Homogenic, Vespertine welcomes you with open arms. This is one of the most beautiful records I’ve ever heard.
Radiohead, Amnesiac
Kid A is the best Radiohead album (favourite is In Rainbows), so Amnesiac had some big shoes to fill. Unfortunately, as it’s for all intents and purposes a leftovers albums from the Kid A sessions, the two were inevitably going to be compared and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t assume Amnesiac wasn’t going to hold a candle to its predecessor.
Opener “Packt Like Sardines…” didn’t help matters, it immediately sounds like a case of ‘Let’s pick up where we left off’. Nothing striking about it and it feels like we’re stuck in a loop before the album really begins with “Pyramid Song”. Now, that. That always has and always will be a top five Radiohead song for me.
As for the rest? I know it doesn’t get a lot of love but “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors” has a dystopian club vibe, like Y2K has corrupted the speakers and the DJ himself, and I rather liked it for that. Similarly, “You And Whose Army?” and “Life in a Glasshouse” feel like they should be sung in a lounge in an underground bunker during a blitzkrieg of nukes. “Knives Out” is a brilliant single, and “Dollars and Cents” struck a chord with how appropriate it is a quarter century on. “Hunting Bears” is no “Treefingers” though.
The tracks aren’t knitted together as well as those on Kid A, again owing to those ‘leftovers’ vibes, and it can come across as something of a compilation album. But that’s picking tiny nits, frankly. With the exception of the false start that is “Packt…”, I had a hell of a time with Amnesiac. It’s a touch more lavish and polished, and it feels as if Radiohead have one eye poking out from the shells they retreated into post-OK Computer. Just about ready to rejoin society upon the calling of the siren. I’m half tempted to do a full-blown entry on this album when I inevitably revisit it…
We’ll continue our look back to 2001 in a mo but first, some of October’s releases that I’ve been anticipating.
Tame Impala, Deadbeat
Most of the grief this album was getting before it was even released was down to the change in genre, with Kevin transitioning from psych pop to EDM. But I myself have been allowing more electronic stuff into my listening life lately, like Björk and Boards of Canada* so I wanted to judge Deadbeat on that merit as opposed to being the newest Tame Impala album. And here’s what I’ve come away thinking:
Musically? Fine, nothing special. I still maintain my opinion that a lot of the music sounds visibly stitched together, and the one-man project aspect of Tame Impala is all the more apparent for it.
Vocally? Decent. If there’s one thing Kevin has gotten better at as time’s gone on, it’s that.
Lyrically? Erm…insipid?
The ‘woe is me’ tone gets grating by track three, and I know I’ve gone on to like records in the same vein like This is Hardcore and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants. The difference is they lamented their mistakes and mid-life crises, whereas this album just feels like an hour-long moan. There’s also some questionable and downright lazy attempts at songwriting. I mean, ‘You’re a cinephile, I watch Family Guy’. Come on. If we stick on this pathway, we’re probably going to have verses referencing ‘6-7’ and ‘Skibidi Toilet’. Maybe an instrumental album next would be the best course of action.
All that being said, I’ve come around a little bit to “Loser” since last time, it sounds better as part of the journey. Same with “Dracula”, that one’s alright. And “Ethereal Connection”’s thumping beat gave me Underworld vibes, shame nothing else about the track managed to compliment it. Otherwise? Miss.
By the way, I would not recommend looking at online discourse, especially not in Tame Impala fan circles, for reasons you can see below. Listen to the album then form your opinion, please and thank you.
*I listened to Music Has the Right to Children the night before my birthday, but just as background noise which is why I don’t have anything to say about it beyond the words ‘great’ and ‘fascinating’.
Richard Ashcroft, Lovin’ You
I didn’t really want to listen to this next one but after last month I’m trying my damndest to have an open mind, so…Geronimo, I guess.
I made my feelings on lead single “Lover” pretty clear when it came out. I have a vague recollection of trying the second single aswell but I don’t think I bothered listening past the first minute as it was just more of the same. Regardless of that though, I did promise myself to try the album when it came out, as I told myself that it could just surprise me.
Initially as “Lover” began again I felt like I’d softened up; the opening beats and synth strings have some Verve-ian DNA in there. Then Richard shouted ‘Yeah’ and started singing and I remembered why I hated this so much. I thought the next track, “Out Of These Blues”, was going to be a repeat as it started so well but this time Ashcroft held up his end of the bargain and turned in some alright lyrics, although the country-stylings was a wee bit strange. And I have to admit, “Heavy News” rocked with a neat little guitar solo. But that’s where the good times came to an end. “Oh L’Amour” was boring. “I’m A Rebel”…f*ck me, that song is a crime against God. I actually found it so excruciating that I skipped it halfway, only to end up with another borefest in “Find Another Reason” and I’m sorry but I checked out at that point.
It should be no surprise what he’s singing about on this album – a drinking game for every time he says ‘Love’ or some variation could seriously rival Withnail & I’s in terms of how bloody lethal they both would be. We get it, mate. You love Kate. Good for you. At times I get the impression Richard wants to hang with the pop stars of today, be the Ed Sheeran for the aged Generation X-ers, but I doubt even they would touch some of the stuff Richard serves on this album. Except “Heavy News”, but one song doth not an album make.
OK, that was unpleasant, how about an album from an artist who I’ve never ever listened to before that’s all about divorce?!
Lily Allen, West End Girl
Autofiction or no, I feel like I’m eavesdropping, guilty of voyeur almost as Lily spills the beans on how her marriage went up in smoke. But she is damn intent on making you hear every little detail, as she runs unrestrained the gamut of anger and sadness in a cathartic marathon. And the tale told all the while? The oceans between our narrator and their other half, the mystery of Madeline, wandering through the stages of grief into open relationships? I genuinely would not be surprised if this album is translated onto the stage; a 45 minute play with the main character miming to each song and featuring some lightning fast changes in scenery. Or a Netflix original series, seeing as they’re all the rage now (plus the irony would be delicious considering who the songs are about).
That might be because Lily has painted an album that is as visual as it is visceral. The gunshot sound effects in “Madeline”? Oof. Stating the need to be numb in “Relapse”? Double oof. My only real criticism of this album is the overuse of autotune. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, in fact I think it’s used to good effect in “Relapse” to convey the headspinning caused by the revelations, but it is a detractor elsewhere. If Lily’s meant to be baring her innermost and delivering such raw lyrics, then they shouldn’t be hidden away, made to sound so artificial.
Still, cracking record, but unfortunately it may soon drown and be consigned to a watery grave, weighed down by the various tabloids and chip wrappers as they watch Lily and David Harbour’s every move. Then again, we can hope that Lily airing the dirty laundry so vividly will satiate the rags enough, until the inevitable lawsuit and we’ll start the cycle again with 24-hour coverage. We are nothing if not a fickle species.
(Oh shut up, Ollie, put away your soapbox and say you enjoyed the album.)
I enjoyed the album. Will check out Lily’s older stuff one day.
Let’s liven things up. TikTok has been rather good to me this month and has allowed me to discover some budding artists who absolutely deserve the time of day. And for most of them, I feel this is the appropriate reaction to their tunes:
Testaments, “The Clown”
This is a first. I’m talking about a band that has yet to release a debut album or even an EP. All we have of Testaments is three singles (edit: they released number four while I was typing this up). Out of them, I went for the most recent, that being “The Clown”.
One word. Vocals. At first you might not blink twice but then singer Rebecka lulls you in and gives a commanding performance. There’s the wobble in the voice early on as if tears are being choked back, and those stutters in the second half of the song are damn near enough to make Scatman John rise from the dead and applaud. The band are well and truly in the background though, with Rebecka sounding as if she’s standing under a spotlight in a dusty old theatre. But again. Vocals. They stand out naked and elevate the emotion behind the lyrics as a result.
Unwind Project, Lovers on the Edge of Tomorrow
If you can’t tell, I’m back on the jazz fusion train. I find something comforting in the loneliness and melancholy of jazz, and hearing it fused with hip hop and synths is just sublime. In media like Fallout, you get the 1950s refitted for the future. This to me feels more like the 1940s, sitting in a refitted smoky jazz club or being stuck behind a desk reviewing the same murder case notes. Either way, it very nicely captures the atmosphere of a lonely evening. Good to drink to, good to dance to, good to mourn to. My only real complaint is the structuring of the playlist – There’s the curiosity of having the only track with vocals slap bang in the middle, and then capping the album off by playing it again sans vocals. Saying that, I did end up wishing that the album was longer than 23 minutes so I should just take what I can get.
Yndling, “It’s Almost Like You’re Here”
Shoegaze, dream pop, trippy, hooky, swirly yet fuzzy guitar riff. That’s a lot of boxes for one song to tick but alas Yndling do just that.
They’ve got a new album out in November, one they have said will takes inspiration from acts like Mazzy Star, Portishead, Massive Attack and Cocetau Twins. All of that means I’ll be writing about it in the next monthly, and they’ll be on tour soon in support of its release so go see them if you can.
Back to 2001, now.
The Strokes, Is This It
Some say this is it. The indie album of the 2000s, possibly even the album of the 2000s full stop. Unfortunately, that means it’s on the backfoot straight away for me because I’ve got to go into it with high expectations, wanting nothing more than the trailblazer it’s hyped up to be.
Or I could just go in expecting some good ol’ fashioned indie, you know? And that’s exactly what I got.
This feels like the kind of sound the La’s were chasing when they were making their own album – Raw, with no extra frills needed. Immediately, it’s obvious that Is This It was recorded ‘as live’ as it sounds like it’s straight from the garage to the disc with nothing fancy added on top. Almost as if you’re watching the band at a gig. Just as Mavers intended.
Expectations be damned, this album isn’t quite a trailblazer. It’s a blueprint. Other indie bands would continue to arrive and spark the movement that would follow across the 2000s, adding and changing details to spice things up like heavier guitar riffs, extra instruments, and deeper lyrics. But the Strokes definitely set the bar high for them to cross. One of the most easy-listening experiences you can ever hope to have.
Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
This month, Paste Magazine have been posting bit by bit what they consider to be the top 250 albums of the 21st century so far. Vespertine made it into the top ten, but it was this album that achieved pole position. And…I’d never heard of this band nor this record. Have I had my head in the sand, or is this an outside choice for an outside choice’s sake? Mind you, saying that, I shouldn’t go into it expecting to hear the best album ever made, that would be unfair. Then again, if the Strokes can match their reputations, why can’t Wilco?
I suppose what helps this rating is that it’s indie-with-a-dash-of-Radiohead. Stone cold clangy pianos? Feedback loops and static? Malaise and dread here and there? A bit of Ctrl+C from OK Computer, methinks. Regardless, I like me a bit of art rock and Wilco are clearly on fine form throughout this album. While the pacing is a little slower, it’s not enough to lose my attention. They also seemed to be setting some trends up themselves – I can’t put my finger on it at the moment but I’m sure I’ve heard another band or three use similar chord progressions and noises heard in “Ashes of American Flags”.
And if you’ll allow me to put on the tin foil hat for a minute, but this album more than any that I’ve written about in this entry has shown the changing times music was facing at the time. Let’s not beat around the Bush (if you’ll forgive the pun), the events of 9/11 meant music would take a sharp left turn with artists galore letting it mould and shape their tunes for the next few years as geopolitically, everything seemed to spiral. A dark cloud of foreboding seemed to loom large, and Wilco managed to forecast that cloud with the three track stretch of “War on War”, “Jesus, Etc.” and “Ashes of American Flags”. There’s also the small fact that this album was originally due for release on September 11th. Speaking of, bonus points for essentially selling the album for twice as much and laying the foundations for streaming. Check out the full story when you’ve got a mo.
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the right record at the right time. And while I do think that elevated its praise at the time massively, ergo leading to its status as best album of this century so far according to Paste, that shouldn’t detract from this album’s effortless ability to stand on its own two feet.
Prince, The Rainbow Children
I have never listened to Prince so you might expect me to start with a classic like Purple Rain or Sign o’ the Times. Yet for whatever reason I was drawn to this one first. Maybe it was the fact it had Rainbow in the title. Maybe because it boasted some more jazz fusion for me to dive into. Maybe it was a bit of bile fascination as this was Prince’s ‘I’m a Jehovah’s Witness now’ album.
I’m not a religious guy. I have an ear for spiritualism, hence I’ve enjoyed George Harrison’s early solo output. If it’s used as a tool to make music instead of being the subject matter, lest the record serve up a severe case of throat-cram, then I’m fine with it.
So imagine how far my eyes rolled when I pressed play on the title track and I was greeted with the words ‘The wise one in subjection to God/Forever is in subjection to God’. Oh bloody hell, have I accidentally taken my first foray into Christian rock? Am I about to be indoctrinated by f*cking Prince?! I don’t feel compelled to immediately stop because of the jazzy undertones – That bassline is blooming alluring. Then again, there’s a lot trying to drive me away, namely the spoken word sections with a pitch-shift that make Barry White sound like Joe Pasquale. Worse still is that this rears its head constantly, namely on “Digital Garden” which is an otherwise fine wine of a track. By track six, I couldn’t stop myself from going ‘Oh piss off’.
“Muse 2 the Pharoah” established that we were going to delve into the religions of Ancient Egypt so that reassured me a little that this album wasn’t going to be an advert for Jehovahs. But it is clearly at the forefront of Prince’s mind and he’s letting it guide him rather than he’s guiding it to create a good album, again going back to my preference of using it as a tool. On the other hand, he still has his lyrics about sex to fall back on, and is one of the reasons why “Mellow” is a personal highlight.
I can imagine that this isn’t a very popular Prince album among his faithful, it’s quite slow and not a lot of ‘danceable’ material is provided, bar “Everywhere” which is superb. But as a newbie who’s been enjoying his jazz lately, I mostly liked the tunes when I wasn’t really paying attention to what Prince was saying. Now that I type that though, I feel like I’m doing him a disservice considering how much of a talented vocalist he was. All the same, I don’t think this will be an album I will revisit. Probably should have gone for Purple Rain.
Before we conclude this particular monthly (And not a moment too soon either because Christ this has been a long one. If you’re still reading, I deeply appreciate it) I can’t forget a promise I made last time around – I said that I would listen to a Taylor Swift album. And hey, she actually released an album this month so logic could’ve dictated that I try that one.
But if our dear old friend the Internet is anything to go by, that would’ve been a terrible idea.
Bastardising Shakespeare (again) and rising to non-existent bait from Charli XCX would’ve been bad enough, but I also read some lyrics and holy shit, this woman has most definitely started believing she is God’s gift to music. Look at this:
‘You made a deal with the devil, turns out my dick’s bigger’
‘Did you girl-boss too close to the sun?’ (Oh my, the irony…)
‘Please, God, bring me a best friend who I think is hot’
‘He dick-matised me and opened my eyes’
Mr. Parker, I apologise, you are absolutely entitled to your Family Guy binges.
Life of a Showgirl will be Be Here Now’ed. There are some people who will swear by it, call it fun and misjudged, and that’s fine, good on them for finding enjoyment in this album (or clinging to denial like a moth to a flame, one of the two). But come the inevitable next record, this one will either be forgotten or remembered as ‘the shit one’, the one that killed her momentum.
So yeah, I’m in no mood for Taylor now. But you know what? There is someone I’ve been playing on the radio lately, a big-time female popstar who I will admit I was turned off by how overplayed they were when they debuted. Now? They have my attention.
Sabrina Carpenter, Man’s Best Friend
I’m seeing some parallels between Sabrina and Pulp. Both riding the waves of fame with witty, sexually suggestive lyrics, both doing so whilst signed to Island, and both with an album cover that got lambasted for being sexist and demeaning. The more things change…
But let’s keep the two apart otherwise I won’t end up giving her a fair shake.
First things first, the song that drove me to the album in the first place was “Tears”. Taking the piss and saying that a bloke simply showing a little common decency is enough to give you the horn? Brilliant, I’m on board. Love the overall Eurodisco sound of the record, especially “Nobody’s Sound” and those synths on “Manchild”. The country inflections are fine too, but I’m glad it doesn’t take the forefront as it’s not exactly my go-to genre.
It is very linear though, the songs are all about the same thing, guided by breakups and/or arousal. Then again, it’s a pop album, should I be surprised? No. Besides, Sabrina certainly has an intricate way of putting things. The songwriting overall is great, maybe a little overly crass at times and not every line is a home run (See “When Did You Get Hot?” and speculating about the size of Zeus’ cock). However, it’s all tongue-in-cheek and not designed to be taken too seriously. That being said, given how explicit Sabrina can get at times, I can imagine she’ll turn in her own West End Girl some time down the line should any future husband be dumb enough to cross her. “Sugar Talking” is a sure indicator of that.
The difference between Sabrina and Taylor is that one is doing it for the love of the game, and the other is just good at playing the game. One of them is trying their hardest and having fun, the other’s addicted to making money which she can get from fans at the drop of a hat. One’s being delightfully droll about their sexual appetite, the other’s insightfulness on the subject only goes as far ‘Haha, dicks and Redwood trees, isn’t my fiancée well hung?!’. Sabrina has her entire career ahead of her still, Taylor’s can coast along on the bare minimum. With all that in mind, I think I know who I’d rather pay attention to. Don’t you?
A-Side Glance 