Old Simplicity by Ranger3

This review has been published by Spiked magazine. To read it go to:

http://www.spiked-online.com/index.php?/site/article/6296/

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As a child of vaguely folkie parents, I was brought up on a diet of Richard Thompson and Fairport Convention, and I’ll admit I was completely nonplussed by the folk idiom. How could I have any connection to the tale of Lord Bateman, or the plight of Napoleonic-era Britons? As far as I was concerned these people were dead, and so was the music.

Years of Refusal by Morrissey

As with many a monumental artist, the prospect of a new Morrissey album poses a dilemma for the critic. Indeed all music should be evaluated as a singular piece of art, yet when the individual in question couldn’t possibly surpass (or even equal) their previous output, how can one deem any new addition as excellent. For Morrissey this is even more intense, as not only were The Smiths one of the most passionately loved bands Britain has ever seen, but his two decade solo career has also produced some undeniably brilliant albums. As I gritted my teeth and settled down to listen to Morrissey’s latest work, Years of Refusal, I was surprised, not only because it was an enjoyable Morrissey album this side of the millennium, but because the man himself achieves this by barely straying from the path he’s been walking for twenty years.

As the album begins, the signs of stagnation are ever present. The glam-rock glory of opener ‘Something is Squeezing My Skull’ is reminiscent of ‘National Front Disco’, from 1992 release Your Arsenal. Furthermore, a brief glance over the writing credits reveals that the majority of the album is written by the same two blokes – Boz Boorer and Alain Whyte, who have been contributing to the Moz canon since 1991. These are all factors which should forebode another forgettable album from the Mancunian wordsmith, yet through being completely succinct and playful, Morrissey has been able to rejuvenate his tired form.

Ever since Morrissey’s first solo album, the unsettling existence of pop filler has tarnished even his greatest successes. Thankfully, a hard edged approach applied to the new material, has made Years of Refusal an album that barely lets you take a breath. Whilst the muscular rock of the album has always been a part of Mozzer’s solo sound, here the need to create balance by the use of slow, brooding, seven minute numbers has been rightfully tossed aside.

Inevitably, a new Morrissey release is always accompanied by every published non-believer, mocking his inability to move on thematically. Indeed song titles such as ‘One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell’ and ‘I’m OK by Myself’ do little to dispel this belief, within this lays a delightful irony. With lines like “Could this be an arm around my waist/Well surely the hand contains a knife” he reminds us of how much humour can emanate from his exploration of celibacy, heartbreak and complete despair.

It remains apparent to even the most loyal fan that Morrissey’s writing has never recovered since The Smiths’ split. Now approaching 50, little of this album’s lyrical content suggests he will ever return to his former literary glory, yet it does showcase his ever improving vocal ability. As the music of the sombre ‘It’s Not Your Birthday Anymore’, descends into full blown rock balladry, his powerful and heartfelt vocal is oddly affecting, which goes a long way to filling the gap his words have left.

From the album’s title, to Morrissey’s be-quiffed image on the cover, Years of Refusal is anything but an innovation. There is not a single song that couldn’t have slotted neatly into any of his previous three albums, yet this release succeeds as it finally makes the most of this established style. Dynamic production and the good sense to omit poor material, has saved this album from the mediocrity of its predecessors. It is indisputable that sheer loyalty and undying love for The Smiths has kept so many of us interested in Morrissey’s output for the past twenty years, yet the fact remains that even at his most mediocre, he’s still the best we’ve got.

Tonight by Franz Ferdinand

Whether you believe it is based on talent or pure good timing, as a band who slightly preceded the indie craze, Franz Ferdinand are revered as one of the better bands of recent years. Despite only being on the scene for five years, the Scottish four piece have for one reason or another, become elder statesmen of the indie scene. However, with long awaited third album Tonight, we see that sadly they aren’t the innovators many confused them for.

When Kapranos and Ko. first appeared in 2004, they were young, new and different. The mission statement that was debut single ‘Take Me Out’, gave British rock fans a band they could throw their arms around. However, whilst their first two releases were brimming with promise, they were by no means excellent. Tonight sees Franz Ferdinand content with their style, meaning the album features barely a song that deviates from their punchy riff heavy sound. To put it in a nifty rhyming couplet, they replicate where they should innovate.

With the opener ‘Ulysses’ you are lured into a false sense of security. The song’s pounding bass and subtle synth gives it all the quirkiness that we’ve come to expect, yet indicative of how disappointing this album is, few of the remaining eleven tracks even approach this frankly mediocre song.

The aptly named album seems to portray the brief moments of beauty, which emerge in a sea of sex, drugs and sleaze, yet the funky aesthetic employed to represent this is an obvious and tiresome choice. On such tracks as ‘No You Girls’ and ‘What She Came For’, the band approach the genre in a painfully clinical way, which only highlights their musical naivety.

Conscious of the innovation they are expected to produce, the band do make several attempts at genre fusion, yet once again these emerge as another of the album’s weaknesses. The techno epilogue of ‘Lucid Dreams’ or the piano intro of ‘Bite Hard’, only tease the listener with creating an insight into how good the album could have been. Appearing at the beginning or end of the track, these brief spasms of pastiche often upstage the song itself, leaving one to wonder if incorporating these into the main structure, would have provided the variety and innovation this album so desperately needs.

Alas the cynic in me doth despair, as indeed the album is not a lost cause. The likes of ‘Twilight Omens’ do in part breathe new life into the Franz form, yet even the most promising tracks never quite approach greatness. It would seem the band have exhausted their stripped down structure, as the shortcomings of Kapranos’ lyricism means that there is simply nothing to fill the gap the music leaves.

Don’t get me wrong, Franz Ferdinand aren’t nearly annoying enough to spark my dislike, but Tonight remains an album only hardcore fans will enjoy. For all the promise and for all the hype the long wait has created, all albums are essentially a sum of their parts, and when you add poor lyricism, with mediocre song composition and a staunch refusal to do anything interesting; you get Tonight by Franz Ferdinand.