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            The arrival of “Veneer,” the full-length debut from Swedish-born acoustic maestro José González, is already one of the most exciting prospects for music in 2005. It’s a stripped-down release of gorgeous, eloquent musings that catch González in candle-lit intimacy, with just his nylon strings to snap out a delicate rhythm that reflect his Argentinean roots.

            ”Slow Moves” is anything but that; rather, it’s head-down, up-tempo dash is an inconspicuous dip into the well of González’s carefully crafted, sell-sufficient ambience. Threading a lovely beginning together, the dewy-eyed optimism to “Remain” rumbles on with just two lines (“We’ll remain after everything’s been washed away by the rain / We will stand upright as we stand today,”) though it may take half a dozen listens (or even more) to realise that that’s all there is to it. Simple and sparse at all times (it’s just González and his acoustic on every track), it’s clear that he has been wandering alone in the walls of his own sound for years, and has found a way of extracting the most from it like few others could, given the same tools.

            It’s a world that, almost wickedly, we’re only getting a taster of here; with eleven tracks bowing out after half an hour, by the time you’re ready to sit down and unfurl, you’re being showed the door. However, each song is like a beautiful little scene from a low-budget, independent foreign film you may never see; the heartbreak of “Lovestain” handed to you simply with the lines: “”You left a lovestain on my heart / And you left a bloodstain on the ground / But blood comes off easily,” while the twinkling of “Deadweight On Velveteen” runs deep with the timely, John Fahey-like addition of three simple, resonating bass notes.

            There are wonderful bossa nova-like rhythms to be found on tracks such as “Stay in the Shade,” gliding up against you and breezing by like the seduction of a swivelling Latin dance. The only real signs of formulaic failure come with “Hints,” which relies too much on a solitary, hammer-on-hammer-off turn of the strings, before allowing “Broken Arrows” to aptly draw “Veneer” to a close by summoning a mass of dark clouds over its run of quiet tales, trailing out to the sound of the only other instrument that appears on the album: a melancholic, muted trumpet. Invigoratingly fresh, “Veneer” is a real find for those who may have lost faith in what new music has to offer.

Artist / Group:
José González
Album:
Veneer
Label:
Peacefrog
Released:
25th April 2005

Popularity: 1% [?]

            A staple of nearly any classic album list, Bowie found the pinnacle of his career with “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars,” a concept album that draws an analogy between the worship that’s showered on a rock star and a visitor from outer space. But forget about the sassy hairdos, outfits, make up, and even the theme of an androgynous alien who grabs a guitar and brings glam rock to the world, as an immensely enjoyable and accessible album, “Ziggy Stardust” brings you theatrics in the very best sense of the world. While it’s easy to accuse it of flaunting variations of the same image wildly about with outlandish pomp (the kind that one would naturally assume exists with such a project), every tune here is capable of standing alone as a good one.

            As the feint tap of the bassdrum bring us into the raw “Five Years,” gradually engorging into a climax like a screaming, nervous breakdown of dramatic strings, it begins a trip of fat, dirty guitar sounds, arousing arrangements, sultry saxophone, parading, mesmerising harmonies, and inviting riffs – it’s all in there. While Bowie catches your gaze before staring through the sky on “Soul Love,” the canonical “Moonage Daydream” rips things open with the stab of Mick Ronson’s guitar as Bowie unreservedly delivers the lines: “I’m an alligator, I’m a mama-papa coming for you / I’m the space invader, I’ll be a rock ‘n’ rollin’ bitch for you…And I’m busting up my brains for the words,” eventually soaring out on an electrifying, career defining solo.

            Before that’s even had a chance to fade from your ear, the acoustic strum to “Starman,” with its moody beginning and stuttered bridge, lulls you to the point of being unprepared for the impressive precision that lies between the polar opposites that follow: a sweeping chorus drifts away dreamily before subtly dropping back into a crunching refrain of chords. A cover of the Ron Davies-written “It Ain’t Easy” (also covered by Long John Baldry) typifies the stylistic magic that Bowie’s effortlessly pushing after here: the rootsy blues of the original is completely re-built and thrust into a new, cabaret-like existence by the sheer force of Bowie’s cocky (and somewhat camp) charm – yet the heights that the end product manages to scale are nothing short of astounding. Similarly, the jangling piano that rides through “Lady Stardust” is all part of the same entirely effective melodrama that shouldn’t work, but does.

            By the time we reach the schoolboy fantasising of “Star” (“I could fall asleep at night as a rock & roll star / I could fall in love all right as a rock & roll star”), the songs are winding around each other, packed with hooks, harmonies, and in the case of this particular track, everything finishes on a magnificent, drooping coda. The hand-clapping, straight-ahead stride of “Hang On To Yourself” makes sure to stay on top of things with a pacey, hip-shaking strut, while the crisp turn of “Ziggy Stardust” knows how to go about becoming another one of those classics of immeasurable influence with a simple, calculated brilliance.

            Easily the smoothest song on the album, when the Velvet Underground-inspired “Suffragette City” swings coolly by, the album is working its way through a rampage that one just doesn’t want to end. However, demise comes in the form of the stately, even strange, finale that is “Rock’n'Roll Suicide,” which, like “Five Years,” starts off somewhat reservedly only to transform 2:15 of the way in, and unsurprisingly, goes out screaming on a roll of strings, creating a farewell tone that’s verging on martyrdom. You don’t have to buy into the flamboyancy to take a shine to “Ziggy Stardust,” the songs, unlike the 70s glam that the album represents, are more than good enough to doggedly resist ever becoming tragically unhip.

Artist / Group:
David Bowie
Album:
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars
Label:
Virgin
Released:
1972

Popularity: 1% [?]

            Admirers of 2002’s “Dreamland” will be pleased to see Robert Plant’s run of form continue with “Mighty Rearranger,” an earthy album sprinkled with Middle-Eastern influences. Wonderfully, there are moments (such as on the hushed “Another Tribe”) that see Plant’s voice defying age and sounding just as it did thirty years ago, as he re-ignites us with the trance of understated “Morocco’n'roll,” amplifying the Sahara sounds of the badir and lute with a jagged, bluesy edge.

            The Strange Sensation, for the most part, provide capable backing for Plant’s modern impetus, but at times are guilty of sounding little more than an assembly of various members of not-so-great bands of the late 90s (which, arguably, they are). The first single, “Shine It All Around” (a song where Plant sings of his regeneration while perhaps owing something lyrically to the Bobby “Blue” Bland’s “Turn On Your Love Light”) is one such example, whereas “Tin Pan Valley” sounds like it’s veering a little too close to a Superunknown-era Soundgarden riff.

            ”Freedom Fries,” meanwhile, storms ahead, running the blues through the dust of the desert before the warbling intro of “Tin Pan Valley” threatens to put the listener right off. Thankfully, the other elements of the song manage to pull it together, with Plant’s near-whispering of his refusal to fall into the traps of his peers meaning that the wrinkles do make an (intentional) brief appearance, after all.

            Though carrying a touch of “The Rain Song” to it (in fact, that same falling, open-chord sound can be found in numerous places on “Mighty Rearranger”), the excellent “All The King’s Horses” is a dreamy, acoustic reverie that has Plant at his most sublime. Things continue to come together nicely with the stirring “The Enchanter,” though the guitar interestingly sounds like it belongs to Jack White’s take on the blues. The political “Takamba,” meanwhile, feels as if it’s groping for the same vibe as Plant’s much favoured Moroccan nomads “The Berber Tribesmen”, but instead it closes down that route altogether and wastes no time in rocking things out, resonating Plant’s 21st century sound.

            The warm, sifting sound of “Dancing In Heaven,” with its lovely, wordless chorus, helps to further tilt the balance of the album in favour of the good far outweighing the forgettable. There seems to be another shift in guitar sound for both “Let the Four Winds Blow” and the title track, as if, after much honing, Plant and co. have settled for a bluesier feel. Accordingly, these two tracks pull no punches, adding some meaty weight to the fold, straightforward as it may be. The final (listed) number is a quick, endearing jam as Plant reproduces the vowel sounds of Them’s “Gloria” to the sounds of an impromptu honky-tonk piano. The bonus track, however, is a new-age remix of “Shine It All Around” which tries its hand at tame drum’n'bass, and fails to work in any way.

            In all, there’s much to like here, and Robert Plant’s die-hard contingent will doubtless feel that he hasn’t put a foot wrong. Though he’s guaranteed to never disappear from the musical map thanks to his achievements with Led Zeppelin, with “Mighty Rearranger,” Plant’s Indian dream-catcher brings together the nuances of Blues and Arabic folk with political commentary, showing that his sound is maturing gracefully, and just as importantly, that he’s still got that fiery roar.

Popularity: 1% [?]

          With his solo career in desperate need of a shot in the arm, Reed teamed up with Ziggy Stardust powerhouse duo David Bowie and Mick Ronson for a helping hand on 1972’s “Transformer.” Suitably, it’s Ronson’s guitar that kicks things off to a roaring start with the swinging “Vicious,” with Reed’s restrained vocals forming an unlikely but immensely charismatic dynamic, as he pouts: “Vicious, you hit me with a flower” (a line borrowed from the mouth of Andy Warhol). “Andy’s Chest” (also named after Warhol), meanwhile, is where doo-wop meets glam rock, as Reed’s surreal but humorous lyrics (“But the funny thing is what happened to her nose / It grew until it reached all of her toes / Now when people say her feet smell, they mean her nose”) are superimposed with Bowie’s harmonies. It’s at this point that we begin to appreciate how important David Bowie’s production will serve to be on “Transformer”, becoming the real winner by gracing the tracks with an array of electrifying touches that bring them to life.

            The dark, anthemic “Perfect Day” is a beautifully ironic work (so beautiful in fact, that the song’s meaning is often lost in translation) that swells to a wonderful classic arrangement by Mick Ronson, who crucially injects an exquisite shunt of his trademark guitar sound into the verse of “Hangin’ Round,” which manages to go out on yet another gorgeous hook. Next up, the universally known “Walk On the Wild Side” (Reed’s only top 10 hit); its warm sway delivered perfectly thanks to some more than capable session musicians (who actually came up with the music themselves) while Reed, with irresistible cool, regales us with tales of some of the more ambiguous sexualities he became acquainted with in Andy Warhol’s “Factory.”

After the gassy horns of the camp “Make-Up” sees Reed’s vocals being effective even when they sound weak, along comes the breathtaking “Satellite of Love.” Originally a leftover Velvet Underground song, reincarnated for “Transformer”, the song goes some distance to become the album’s standout track. Jealousy has never sounded so sweet as it does here, the song exploding into a mesmerising display of harmonies toward the end, defining what Bowie brings to the table; his escalating/falling background vocals drive the song onto somewhere beyond, becoming the heart of “Transformer” (and perhaps one of my favourite moments in the history of recorded music.)

            Decorated with a line of soulful female backup singers, Ronson’s “sound” once again reappears (as do Reed’s wavering vocals) before the song comes to a magnetic climax, pumping away with another delicious hook (“Why don’t you wake me, shake me, please don’t let me sleep too long”). The biting, old-timey fun of “New York Telephone Conversation” is a wry (even bitchy, perhaps) take on everything ostentatiously New York, while “I’m So Free” fills the by now much-loved template of Reed/Ronson/Bowie with ease, bookmarking the album with somewhat of a mirror of “Vicious.” The oom-pah trombone, along with Reed’s nonchalant, sardonic touch, make another appearance to close things out on “Goodnight Ladies,” the music sounding like it could score footage of a drunk, dejected Charlie Chaplin wandering home in the early hours of the morning.

            Every song on “Transformer” is a classic in its own way, and the efforts of (relatively) unsung heroes Mick Ronson and David Bowie cannot be overstated here. Regardless of whether Lou Reed may claim that it’s all parody or not, this is easily his finest hour outside of The Velvet Underground.

Artist / Group:
Lou Reed
Album:
Transformer
Label:
RCA
Released:
1972

Popularity: 1% [?]

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2. Amon Tobin – Lighthouse – Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory OST – 5.05
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7. Breakestra – #12 – The Live Mix Pt. 2 – 2.31
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9. Breakestra – #16 – The Live Mix Pt. 2 – 2.38
10. Breakestra – #17 – The Live Mix Pt. 2 – 2.40
11. Breakestra – #16 – The Live Mix Pt. 2 – 3.02
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14. Beck – Rental Car (edit) – Guero – 0.56
15. O.V. Wright – Let’s Straighten It Out – Bottom Line – 3.47
16. Black Sabbath – Hand of Doom (edit) – Paranoid – 2.08
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18. The Shins – Oh, Inverted World! (edit – outro) – Oh, Inverted World! – 1.53
19. Frank Zappa – I Am the Slime – Overnite Sensation – 3.33
20. The Shins – Weird Divide – Oh, Inverted World! – 3.07
21. Andrew Bird – #12 (untitled) – The Mysterious Production of Eggs – 1.08
22. Mercury Rev – Pick Up If You’re There – Deserter’s Songs – 3.05

Popularity: 1% [?]