There's something to be said for bands growing into their music. The Grateful Dead were young men in the 60s, singing about drinking and hard times, and at some point they grew into this kind of music until it broke your heart to listen to Jerry Garcia sing a ballad. It stopped sounding like snotty youngsters idealizing old bluesmen from the 40s and started sounding like old men who had been through a lot. Similarly, rhe last time the world saw Portishead, they were ten years younger and seemed to be playing at jazz club ambience, 60s film noir, and longing torch songs. Sure, their guitarist Adrian Utley fit in but he was already 40ish, had played in many jazz bands, wore dark sunglasses, and looked mysterious. Seductress Beth Gibbons--who I always picture in my head as sitting on a stool and chain-smoking--and music master Geoff Barrow looked a bit young for the whole thing. Now, though, it would all fit perfectly. The band have been gone for ten years, have presumably been through a lot, and just their sheer absence underscores the feel of their music.
Ironically, then, their 'comeback' album, Third, distances itself from their trademark style. Gone is the soundtrack/filmic feel, the 60s soul/jazz vibe, and the genre defining trip hop-isms. Right when you think they're old enough to authentically fit with that stuff they give you this dark, experimental, and complex electronic album, which brings them fully into the 21st century. They no longer sound like refugees who wish it was the 60s. Now they're down with the 70s, 80s, 90s, and the present. This is downtempo electronic music for all times and seasons.
Who could've predicted that Portishead would really return this year?? Furthermore, who could've predicted that their new album would be so good, so essential?? I mean, for god's sake...a trip hop album in 2008 that is one of the best albums of the year?? You sure you don't mean 1998?? But no, Third is from this year, and it's excellent. Trip hop is vital again. For those about to nod along slowly while sipping scotch and smoking cigarettes, we salute you.
Though a cursory listen to this album will still sound like Portishead, their style has shifted. It's a much more dramatic change from the first two albums than Portishead was from Dummy. No longer does the music feel like it's built on samples or borrowed atmosphere. Third is still based around electronic loops and Beth's stellar vocals but the loops are neither the jazz/soul samples of the first album nor the "live band, recorded to vinyl, and then sampled" style of the second. Third sounds and feels like the least organic of their albums because of it, but it gains a complexity for it.
The music of Third is simultaneously denser and more free than what came before. Take, for example, 'We Carry On', which could be a cover of a Silver Apples song in another lifetime; at some point a guitar solo comes in to lighten the heavy pounding of the drums and organ. The superb 'Machine Gun' recalls vintage Bjork. The beats land like, well, gun shots and explosions, but there's enough silence and space before and after their impact to make the punch that much more impactful. The real treasure of the album, though, is hearing what they have next up their sleeves. There are all sorts of brilliant touches, genuine surprises here and there that make one imagine they spent on a long, long time crafting these songs. 'Magic Doors' has a successfully non-funky cowbell loop and some incredibly dramatic piano chording...and then there's the insane free jazz horn breakdown around the 2:30 mark. 'Deep Water', the album's biggest surprise, is a completely acoustic lament that lets the listener come up for air. And 'Nylon Smile' has a warping psychedelic synthesizer loop and detailed production that reminds me of something Radiohead might've recorded circa Kid A.
If Third wasn't 2008's biggest surprise, I don't know what was. Not only did Portishead release a new album...not only was it good...not only was it arguably their best album yet...it ended up being one of the year's best releases. Though hardcore fans may wish the band would return to their previous style--especially now that they're older and it seems like it would be more 'authentic' now--Third shows that they're capable of other, greater things.
I generally don't take guidance from my dreams. This is because they have little to offer my real life, consisting mainly of nightmare scenarios, violent confrontations, or regressive nervous worries from years past. But sometimes music creeps into my dreams. I find myself in a situation where I'm listening to something I've never heard before, as if my subconscious mind is creating new music that it knows will appeal to me. Then, in the dream, I ask someone what is playing and they tell me and it's a band I already know and the music suddenly changes to that. Last night, it was the Silver Apples, so here we are.
One of the best ways to start an argument with someone is to ask them what they think the best decade or era of music is. My gut reaction is to say the 60s, but then to revise to "the mid 60s to the mid 70s." Even though I'm ensconced in the music of my time, I think the only stuff worth following is the so-called 'indie/underground' music. During the mid 60s to the mid 70s, the best music was also, seemingly, the most popular. Yet as we revisit the past, we find that there were still a lot of bands that fell through the cracks. Some were very ahead of their time, others just didn't fit in with the on-going psychedelia and hippie-centric writing of the day, and there's something about the experimental music outside the typical Woodstock fare going on at the time that I find endlessly fascinating and timeless.
The Silver Apples were one of those bands. Possessing a bravura and willingness to make the kind of music they wanted to make, the duo produced two albums of futuristic electronic music that doesn't sound like much of anything before or since. Mixing the dreamy vocals and homemade synthesizer washes, drones, loops, and bleeps of Simeon Coxe with the endlessly imaginative, ever-evolving funky/jazzy percussion of Danny Taylor, the Silver Apples were like an American answer to the German krautrock bands of the era such as Can and Neu!, two bands also notable for being 'ahead of their time' and influencing many later bands yet still sounding contemporary and unique.
The first two Silver Apples albums, from 1968 and '69, are currently available on a single CD, and while I admire the bargain, I hope that people view these albums as separate entities instead of one long listen. They each have a character of their own even if they superficially sound the same with those crazy keyboards and that booty-shaking percussion groove that probably launched a thousand samples. The self-titled debut has more of a pop bent, with shorter songs and a more explicitly psychedelic tone particularly when it comes to the lyrics. Highlights here include the band signature tune 'Oscillations', droney synths meet ultra-tight drumming on 'Lovefingers', the tribalistic stomp of 'Dancing Gods', and 'Program', which will get you nodding your head along to the beat before you know it.
The second album, Contact, has a rougher feel to it while also adding strangely effective banjo(!!) on two tracks. Contact is less obviously hippie-ish than most of the self-titled debut which works in its favor in my book. It's hard to choose between the two albums in terms of favorites because they're equally good and it, then, comes down to personal preference: the more groovy and poppy debut, or the more experimental and varied Contact. At any rate, as far as I know the only way to get these albums today is in the single CD form so all this hairsplitting is meaningless from a consumer standpoint. So, then...'You and I' and 'I Have Known Love' pick up where the debut left off, crafting classic Silver Apples grooves you just want to ride forever. The two aforementioned banjo tracks are shockingly good: 'Ruby' is a short-ish electronic bluegrass drone and 'Confusion' is a nice breath of fresh air to what is mostly an oppressive electronic throwdown. The album draws to a close with the amusing 'Fantasies', which has Simeon Coxe talk-singing and guiding drummer Danny Taylor through the song with orders like "change course now" and "come back home."
If you're the kind of person who's always looking to expand his or her palette, to try out new things in the arts but also to go back to the undiscovered masterpieces of the ages, then this album is the kind of thing you need to pick up. It's adventurous but rewarding music, timeless but of its time, electronic yet not machine-like. In short, it's a must have.
There's something to be said for bands growing into their music. The Grateful Dead were young men in the 60s, singing about drinking and hard times, and at some point they grew into this kind of music until it broke your heart to listen to Jerry Garcia sing a ballad. It stopped sounding like snotty youngsters idealizing old bluesmen from the 40s and started sounding like old men who had been through a lot. Similarly, rhe last time the world saw Portishead, they were ten years younger and seemed to be playing at jazz club ambience, 60s film noir, and longing torch songs. Sure, their guitarist Adrian Utley fit in but he was already 40ish, had played in many jazz bands, wore dark sunglasses, and looked mysterious. Seductress Beth Gibbons--who I always picture in my head as sitting on a stool and chain-smoking--and music master Geoff Barrow looked a bit young for the whole thing. Now, though, it would all fit perfectly. The band have been gone for ten years, have presumably been through a lot, and just their sheer absence underscores the feel of their music.
