Reviews by richardwiggins

I love the core ingredients of this record - how primal, furious and repetitive the band are, and the screamy vocals. I am less enamored by the singing vocals and also wish it developed a bit more as I worked my way through the track list. Still - a cool sound.

R.E.M.’s career is one which is defined by change. It's not always helpful to think of the band in terms of the “IRS era” or the “Warner era” because more often than not each album is in direct opposition to the last. There is little cohesion between their first five records, or what comes after.

In one way Automatic for the People is a natural continuation of the increasingly maximalist sound of their previous three records. Perhaps the success of Losing My Religion led the group to focus their efforts on refining this bigger, more “full” sound. But in other ways it couldn’t be more different from Out of Time. You couldn’t imagine the relentlessly cheery Shiny Happy People, the joyful Near Wild Heaven, or the downright silly Radio Song on this record. Automatic is their darkest album, and the one that most openly emotes sadness.

Outside of this album my favourite R.E.M. songs tend to be the ones that equally balance optimism and pessimism, often blending downbeat verses with upbeat choruses. Before Automatic for the People it was unusual for them to push the darker elements of their sound further than that, and the rare songs where they did leave me feeling cold. On their eighth album they push this much further, and with magnificent style. Not only do they harness darkness in a new way but they manage to sustain this over the course of a whole album without tipping over into something unattractive or bleak.

Nightswimming is nostalgic and hopeful in its sadness, it brings a smile. Man on the Moon has a great momentum and despite it being a spooky, meditative number, somehow manages to slowly morph towards a rousing conclusion. This is only possible because of the band’s advanced understanding of songwriting - they’ve had a lot of practice. The one brief moment of unadulterated joy is The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite which cuts through like a shard of light as a result.

The dynamic shifts on Out of Time were smaller than previous records; passages that could have been quiet were delivered with a booming stage whisper and a chorus pedal. That doesn’t change with Automatic, yet here it’s an asset. The songwriting has been optimised for this approach, dynamics resulting from changes in intensity and emotional impact, rather than volume. When Radiohead say that R.E.M. had a profound and direct influence on them, it may be this that they are referring to. OK Computer similarly has several moments that “feel” quiet despite all proof to the contrary.

If it’s not clear from the above, I think Automatic for the People is a perfect album which has had an indelible impact on our culture and the music that has come since. It went wider and deeper into public consciousness than anyone listening to Murmur in 1983 could have imagined. It’s a testament to the value of a band constantly moving forward, developing and changing up their sound. They should have been household names several times over by the time this LP came out so I feel a huge sense of warmth, satisfaction and justice that this album was an unmitigated success.

This album perfectly captures sophisticated 1980s synth pop at its most glamorous. Itchy beats, bright, extroverted synths and vocals that yearn for connection in a slightly detached, otherworldly way. The two singles are huge, but there are plenty of other stand out moments, such as The Blue Sky’s hypnotic, overlapping vocals.

I’ve had a weird journey with this record. I’ve listened to it twice, four months apart. The first time I loved the instrumentals but couldn’t get on board with the dramatic, world ending vocals, which sounded very cheesy to my ears. On my second listen however it was like I was listening to a completely different vocalist. He’s still a strong flavour but seems more in keeping with the band somehow. Maybe someone has meddled with the masters or maybe tastes change with continued exposure.

Either way, what I definitely like is the chaotic, unpredictable post-hardcore elements and how they regularly, fluidly fold into ambient passages. Vocally, depending on the day, I find it far more or less challenging but there are points that now I’m acclimated I “get” and bits that I don’t.

The more I listen to Nick Drake, the further I move away from the received wisdom that he was a dark and miserable songwriter. All three of his albums prove this to be absolute nonsense. His brooding, melancholy turns are usually counterbalanced by bright and hopeful ones - often within the same song. What makes him fascinating as a writer is how he switches from minor to major, hitting a sweet spot between being downbeat and uplifting.

Also against received wisdom, and Nick Drake’s own preferences, I am glad that delightful and eccentric chamber instrumentation was added to Bryter Layter because it creates a stark contrast between each of his three LPs. None of his albums is like another. His lyrics are often whimsical and soaring, so to match that vibe with orchestration is genius to my ears. The only time this falters is the title track and closing track where Drake’s simple instrumental, which doesn’t do much on its own, is simply drowned out and distracted from.

This album was on regular rotation in my household growing up, so will always be the Nick Drake record I am most familiar with. It holds a special place in my heart.

This is an educational album giving a flavour of what German cabaret sounded like during the World Wars and inter-war periods. The English translation of several tracks will annoy purists but it helps position the songs and drive home the meaning for English speaking listeners.

I don’t spend much time listening to musical theatre, what I’ve connected with has been contemporary and pop influenced, so this is a taste stretcher for me which I failed to connect with beyond taking a curious historical interest.

It’s amazing to think that the gap between today and this album’s release is only slightly less than that of this album’s release and the end of World War Two. How the world has changed!

If Radiohead had never released another album, I believe this would be considered one of the very best albums of the 1990s. Similar to how The Strokes’ debut sits among the pantheon of 2000s indie music, The Bends is better than many of the most popular 90s group’s ‘best of’ compilations - it's absolutely packed out with singles and has an incredible flow.

The title track does an excellent job of encapsulating most people’s main take away from the record. Those beautifully panned, panoramic opening guitar chords, making the most of stereo, with the chorus pedal turned up to max draws a clear line in the sand between the average 1990s rock group who gave us Pablo Honey and this new band who were of a totally different order. Bones pulls a similar trick when the guitars open out in the choruses and create a series of triumphant, euphoric uplifts. These grand moments are offset by creeping, anxious ones like the eerie verses of (nice dream) which make it impossible to write off The Bends as “Just” being for stadiums.

The Bends has of course been eclipsed by the band on multiple occasions since. The multi-layered outro of My Iron Lung prefigures the even more multi-layered outro of Paranoid Android. The tender and gut wrenching Bullet Proof prefigures the even more tender and gut wrenching True Love Waits. But what The Bends does better than any of Radiohead’s other albums is prove that they could make a record for the masses. Something which cuts straight through equally to avid fans and the everyman. Radiohead fans like to think that it's OK Computer and In Rainbows that immortalised the group among the general public, but that’s not the case. There is no Radiohead album more pleasing to more people than The Bends. Not only is it one of Radiohead’s perfect albums, it is generally considered their best.

There are some tremendous, monstrous singles on Celebrity Skin. I like that pop rock from the late 90s was fronted by tough, uncompromising figures like Courtney Love. People wanted some rough and tumble from their radio music and happy to oblige, Hole delivers several smacks to the face. The first and last thirds of this LP go especially hard.

Love is a powerful singer, and one of a dwindling number of chaotic rock stars. While I would not want to return to that era, you can’t deny that frontwomen like Love have a certain aura of cool about them.

There must be few pleasures in life simpler than listening to Eagles’s Take It Easy, it is smooth and carefree, radio ready vintage pop rock that is impossible to take issue with. The rest of the album has many of the same properties, but with less urgent songwriting it glides by without as much notice, though I did like the cheeky and erratic, banjo-lined Earlybird. I had a similar experience with Hotel California, so I wonder if they are more of a singles band?

The standard approach is the standard approach because groups had to make it the standard approach. I don’t know enough about Country to tell you whether The Louvin Brothers are genre defining, but there’s no doubt to this inexpert ear that it has never heard this style so naturally adopted. It’s a charming half hour.

This is a very warm, exuberant, kind hearted album with plenty of pep. Outside of the big singles though, I do feel a slight disconnect. It's a fun, warm listen which I’m sure would make a great party record which sits pleasantly in the background, but doesn’t give me anything deeper than that.

50% Earth, 50% Wind, no Fire.

This is the right time in my life to start listening to Matalica. I'm glad that I’d been schooled in Black Sabbath beforehand because it gave me a route into old school Heavy Metal.

When I was younger I would have rolled my eyes at some of this - especially the vocals and lyrics which are at points joyfully silly. I’m now old enough to appreciate rocking out on the guitar, crunching chords, drum fills, projected vocals. There's drama, there’s shock and awe.

My whole life I’ve wondered why certain grunge and heavy rock artists strain their vocals in that particular way, and now they know - they’re copying Metallica. What sounds overwrought from other singers, sounds electric when done right.

I am quite sympathetic to this sort of disheveled dive bar rock, a straightforward presentation of embryonic punk ideas. They have the campness of Queen and the rough and readiness of the Ramones. The issue is that each song has a joke at the heart of it, and I never get the joke. With “Back to Africa” and “Master Race Rock” the band would be courting controversy, if anyone had ever heard of them. The music is decent / fine. The lyrics are frequently strange and occasionally appalling. It is never funny to me!

Sixty years has a way of completely recontextualising an album. I am not listening to the same music B.B.’s audience were. They are hearing something white hot, innovative and unbelievably, unbearably exciting. They cannot contain themselves and the MC is doing everything he can to whip them up into a frenzy so it can be bottled for the LP. It's impossible for me to connect with this music in the same way. It’s nice, it’s solid, it’s very pleasing music, it may even be ahead of its time or genre defining. But it is not exciting, it is not electrifying. I would need to be on a diet of very restrained or antiquated music to be able to hear what they are hearing. But regardless, I had a good time and I’m happy to have heard him roll out the classics.

Each individual component is objectively good: musicianship; songwriting; flare. For me however, there is a structural issue with the flow of these tracks. I don’t think the seemingly endless jams put any of these beautiful components in their best light. It all comes off indulgent and lacking in momentum to me. Though I am sure that the people who love this album love it for the jamming element, and maybe even wish it would never end…!

In a universe where Sundays are a bad thing, only one month after the release of Strangeways, Here We Come, Morrissey recorded his most direct and immediate collection of solo material. He was in the white heat of his career, where excellence comes easy.

Ported over from production on The Smiths albums, Stephen Street also writes all the music here. He knows exactly how to treat Morrissey’s vocals, and the backdrop needed to get the most out of him. He does a pretty excellent job in subbing in for Marr and Rouke on guitar and bass and is truly the unsung hero. The string section provides a beautiful contrast to all that and results in some lovely dynamic shifts.

A groovy, and on the whole, snappy party record which doesn't let up in propulsion and energy. They have a wonderful, natural, genial vibe and know how to put on a show. This is mixed up with some surprising psychedelic qualities. The second half is my favourite as II find the 10 minute Run Away Child overpowering on side one. I prefer them keeping things quick and light.

Something to keep in mind while listening to this record, is that this group essentially just want to make their listeners feel good, raise a smile, and of course show the world that they are crazysexycool. It's an approach that defies critical analysis because it just feels mean spirited to anything other than to just go with the flow and enjoy. I would say that this record could do with a handful more killer singles, and that it does tread water for some of the tracklist. I also would personally would have removed the interlude with the flushing toilet - while it made me laugh, I don’t think that needed to be kept for posterity!!

Goldfrapp was one of few bands of this era who sounded like they were auditioning to write a Bond theme - it's not a bad wave to be on! There’s a glamorous, slowly unfolding dramatic energy to this album, clearly inspired by 1960s movie soundtracks. A nice integration of strings, plenty of synths and curious, playful vocals at the centre of it all. I love how patient it is, never in a hurry. It's all robust and well conceived, even if it never develops into something I’m totally lost in.

I imagine in many ways this sits more comfortably now than it would have in 1993. Reading reviews from closer to the time, I find many of them are boorish and some downright sexist. Men really weren’t used to listening to women musicians, maybe women generally.

Liz Phair has an interesting voice you don’t hear too often which takes songs to places that a more polished performance wouldn’t be capable of. The songwriting is solid and most importantly an active effort has been made to not overcook anything. In the best possible way it sounds like a bunch of impulsive demos that capture the original energy and intent of the songs. Anything more and you’d lose the focus on the narrative Phair is stringing across the record. At some points the lyrics are compelling and at others genuinely shocking, all centering around her insecurities and the harm inflicted on her by various guys.

I can’t really think of an obvious comparison. It's not quite Elliott Smith, not quite Alanis Morissette. It's its own thing.