[ Golden Gater Online - December 11, 1997 ]
The holiday season is a time of roasted turkeys, candied yams, and pickled relatives. It is also a time when everybody wants their past forgotten, and their present remembered. However, choosing the right present can prove to be more painful than eating menudo, or worse, listening to Menudo. And while shiny chrome cocktail shakers and sleek martini glasses are among my favorite gifts to give as well receive, Mr. Lucky has always found that music -- the right music -- can prove just as intoxicating.
In between spinning vinyl copies of Louie Prima and Henry Mancini, Mr. Lucky was delighted to discover that there was some viable modern-day talent available out there, as well. After all, not all the music that came out this year was bad -- some of it was terrible. (Somebody please tell me why Depeche Mode is still making albums?) While keeping in mind that it is usually best to be generous with praise but cautious with criticism, here are Mr. Lucky's picks for the best albums of 1997:
"OK Computer" Radiohead
When their derisive single "Creep" was released in 1992, Radiohead seemed destined for the British guitar-rock one-hit-wonder shelf like so many of their grog-swilling, shaggy-headed comrades before and since, who probably should have been plucking chickens rather than guitars.
By combining claustrophobic lyrics with multiple layers of noise and melody, the British quintet has produced a sonically adventurous art-rock album that is blowing minds much like David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust" did 25 years ago. In 1997, however, it is Bowie who is reeling from Radiohead's sound, which he tried to duplicate (to no avail) with his lackluster "Earthling" album.
No, you can't dance to it, and this album is probably better suited for your headphones and a bong hit than, say, entertaining friends at a cocktail party. But it is age-defining. It is also darkly beautiful, richly textured, and a dramatic tour de force, making the ambitious "OK Computer" -- in Mr. Lucky's humble opinion, anyway -- the best album of the year.
"Portishead" Portishead
More gloom here.
With their dark, sullen and overwhelming melancholia, this record is like film noir set to music. Between the scratchy, '60s soundtrack-like instrumentation and Beth Gibbons' overtly dispirited vocals, one can almost envision rain-slickened streets. True to noir form, Gibbons is a blonde siren, and the postmodern album cover is shot in black and white.
Although Gibbons' vocals are tinny and often distorted, her ability to enunciate at times like Billie Holliday adds a jazzy element to sardonic, star-crossed lyrics that are usually about love twisting into loneliness.
The group plays the Warfield on Tuesday, Dec. 16.
"If You're Feeling Sinister" Belle and Sebastian
Not much is known about this Glaswegian septet, mainly since they keep a low profile, never tour, are rarely photographed and almost never even leave the house. They have been compared to the Smiths, although lead singer Stuart Murdoch doesn't dip into the well of pity and self-loathing quite as often as Morrissey. (Puh-lease, baby...a celibate rock star? Mr. Lucky just can't relate with that Morose-sey cat...) Rather, the tunes are more upbeat and folksy ... Donovan on Prozac might be a better comparison. The songwriting is poetic, if at times a bit too bohemic ("Like Dylan in the Movies").
The perfect album for the end of the party, just as everyone has run out of jokes and begins to pass out.
"Whatever and Ever, Amen" Ben Folds Five
"Punk rock for sissies" is how pianist Ben Folds describes his band's style of music. Ben Folds Five is actually a trio that amalgamates the cheesy piano-pounding technique of vintage Elton John and Billy Joel with Beach Boy-style vocal harmonies and rollicking, tongue-in-cheek lyrics. Arrangements are slick, production is glossy, and the melodies infectious.
"The End of Violence" Songs from the Motion Picture Soundtrack
Customarily, Mr. Lucky doesn't condone the overt commercialism and rushed packaging of movie soundtracks, but this collection -- taken from an already-forgotten Wim Wenders film -- boasts original contributions from Tom Waits, Los Lobos, Howie B. and Spain just to name a few.
From the bluesy Ry Cooder instrumental that opens the record to the sunny salsa of Raul Malo later on, the album is more diverse -- and, perhaps, more satisfying -- than putting your CD player on random.
The standout among the album's many highlights is "I'm Not Your Baby," a stunning collaboration between U2 and Sinead O'Connor. If nothing else, buy it just to hear O'Connor hiss one of the year's best lines: "Don't treat me like I'm a trick/ I won't treat you like you're a prick."
It is the perfect album to throw on the hi-fi in your dimly-lit crib after an evening spent with that special cat or kitten who will assuredly be staying for breakfast, and trust Mr. Lucky on this one, all but guaranteed to get you and yours moved from the couch to the bedroom. Yeah, baby!
Other notables and "must-owns" include: Pavement's "Brighten the Corners" (lyrical content dealing with Geddy Lee's voice),Third Eye Blind's eponymous debut (if you can put aside Stephan Jenkin's blathering on about his band's stratospheric success long enough to enjoy his lyrics), Spiritualized's "Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space" (Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy fills the void caused by heartbreak with lots of illicit drugs), and, of course, the Eastern-influenced genius of Cornershop's "When I Was Born for the Seventh Time," which belongs near the top right behind Radiohead, but has already been idolized in great detail in this column.
Being a quasi-journalist, Mr. Lucky does realize that procrastination is the greatest labor-saving invention of all time, but when it comes to gift-giving, remember to give those holiday gifts early. That way, it will give the receivers ample time to reciprocate.
Have a cool Yule. Ciao, luv.
[ Golden Gater - December 11, 1997 ]