‘ ,’ croons on the haunted and haunting from his eighth solo album. His lyrics have never, across an expansive 37-year musical career, shied from grandiose self-flagellation. But if anybody had him pigeonholed as the master of epic melancholy, they’re in for a shock.
Because is like nothing he’s done before. Perhaps it’s signing to a new label; perhaps it’s just a rush of fresh inspiration. Even – longtime pal and colleague – has said it’s the singer’s “best and most creative” album to date, emphasising that, while mixed by Wilson, it was produced and performed entirely by Bowness.
He’s shown off a flock of impressive guest stars on previous albums, so this really does feel like a reset, a confessional, almost a purging. His customary trope of patiently-building atmospheres is also jettisoned mercilessly. Of the 16 pieces on this 40-minute work, the majority quit at around two minutes, give or take – only outliers and pass four minutes.
That’s worth stressing, because Bowness’ trademark is settling into grooves then squeezing hard for emotion. is the opposite; it jumps between genres fitfully and restlessly. Early on it seems to be vaguely channelling ’s , before it leaps to and then, before that can even be absorbed, onto to with a dash of .
Insert quote A raw-edged revelation; a declaration of new and neoteric directions Electronica and even techno-tight dance have infused Bowness’ sound before, but here those elements lead off, until – again with disorienting haste – they’re co-opted into something else. Probably the keynote track is , which false-flags an 80s synthpop vibe, suggesting China Crisis being covered by Everything Everything, before a pummelling grind of industrial noise barges in, shoving the anticipated mood aside. Like many successful juxtapositions here, once the listener has acclimatised, it works.
The cryptically-titled pacesetter opens this magnificently obsessed, feverish album, and as begins with ‘g ,’ it’s not kidding. is a spooky fairground ride, while the title track signals regret, insomnia and ghosts – meat and drink to Bowness’s lyrical checklist, but now subverted with unnerving drones and a climax which evokes a German electro punk outfit. There are some gentle passages, and Bowness’s voice remains as mellifluous as ever; but is a raw-edged revelation; a declaration of new and neoteric directions.
Dynamite. Chris Roberts has written about music, films, and art for innumerable outlets. His new book The Velvet Underground is out April 4.
He has also published books on Lou Reed, Elton John, the Gothic arts, Talk Talk, Kate Moss, Scarlett Johansson, Abba, Tom Jones and others. Among his interviewees over the years have been David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, Debbie Harry, Bryan Ferry, Al Green, Tom Waits & Lou Reed. Born in North Wales, he lives in London.
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