It was both the curse and the blessing of The Strokes that they arrived perfectly formed. Everything you ever need to know about the band can be gleaned from listening to their instantly legendary debut. Is This It was five lads in skinny jeans and box fresh Chucks raiding their parents record collections for the cool stuff and blasting out the results. Essentially it was the sound and attitude of 70s New York filtered through the attitude of late 90s/early 00s New York. You had the nagging indiepop magnificence of Last Nite, the 'fuck you authority' stance of New York City Cops*, the inarticulate don't-have-the-word-so-not-gonna-bother insouciance of Hard To Explain and all the lippy attitude you could ever want courtesy of Julian Casablancas' slurring, just got outta bed at 4 pm vocals. And all in an easy on the eye, sexy package.
Trouble is, after you've just perfected what you're trying to do in one shot where do you go from there? Go too far away from what made people love you and buy your music in the first place and you'll lose everyone. Stick with what you know and people might start to wonder if you've got more than one trick. From their two subsequent albums to date The Strokes really don't know whether to stick or twist, producing the odd urgent gem such as Reptilia or Juicebox, but mainly ending up ploughing the same groove to less and less memorable effect. Even three years on from First Impressions of Earth their concerts consist of the same old material, not a note of a new song yet heard. Various solo albums have trickled out, as have reassurances that they're working on new material but it's hard to dodge the impression of a crisis of confidence.
Of course, The Strokes aren't the only band who've found a crisis of confidence after producing the instant perfection the modern music industry demands. Oasis and The Libertines are two of the more recent high profile examples there, defining themselves and shooting their bolt over the course of their debut album. There's less room than ever to hone your craft away from the spotlight, instead commercial pressures mean you tend to have to hit the charts brandishing defining images, killer hooks and instant classic tunes. It seems increasingly rare that an artist aiming for commercial success will have to pay their dues, trying the limits of their talents to see what works and what doesn't. Failure's a dirty word, whether it's a single song or a whole album that doesn't come together. Leaps of faith are infinitely more pressurised when performed in the spotlight, and you can hardly blame young artists looking for an extended musical career for playing it safe. It might mean you lose some edge, but like a warm bath it's the comfortable option and there's no reason to get out into the cold.
So it's refreshing when you hear an album like The Family Jewels. It's big, bold, messy and admirably willing to try any bloody thing it can to grab and hold your attention. It won't stop with chucking the kitchen sink in when it can chuck the whole kitchen in and a fair chunk of the rest of the house too. This is an album that won't be satisfied with sticking to one genre when it can ram raid every genre under the sun and maybe discover a few new ones along the way. It jags between the pure pop of the likes of Hollywood and Oh No! and the balladry of I Am Not a Robot and Obsessions, restlessly exploring and discarding pop styles like a kid who's stuffed themself in a sweet shop. That might become wearing over the course of an album were it not welded together by Marina Diamandis' personality and the very modern theme of desiring fame and the potential effects of achieving your desires. This isn't an album which preaches at the listener, it's one which seeks to explore Marina's thoughts and perspectives on fame, whether it's the obliquely but wonderfully phrased Mowgli's Road, Shampain or Are You Satisfied?. Diamandis often doesn't seem to know whether wanting fame is a good thing or not, content to explore but often not conclude. It's an endearing insecurity which again removes an edge which the tendency to place herself at the centre of the lyrics might give - the (in)famous 'Oh my God/ you look just like Shakira/ No, no you're Catherine Zeta/ Actually my name's Marina' only being the most obvious.
That combination of personality and obsession with fame has an obvious parallel across the Atlantic with Lady Gaga exploring similar themes (and there are further parallels, such as the bestowing of nicknames on their fans or placing themselves at the heart of their lyrics). Musically though there's major differences. Gaga's pop is shiny, sleek and cold, a ruthless musical machine that sets the artist up on a queenly pedestal, distant from the fans. It's something to be admired rather than devoutly loved (and there's a hell of a lot to admire in the pop nous of the likes of Poker Face and Bad Romance). Diamandis is a wilder proposition, seeming to ask for love as much as Gaga but providing a warmer facade in return. It's wild, messy stuff, a technicolour barrage compared to Gaga's ice white facade. And where you get the impression Gaga's every move is calculated to the nth degree, Diamandis seems far more instinctive, wanting to try everything on to see what works, not simply presenting the result of some ruthless honing. Gaga's industrial strength pop could almost have come from anyone, so polished is it, it's hard to imagine anyone else could have come up with anything remotely like The Family Jewels. Gaga's best known hit is Bad Romance, a song that, the chant of her name aside, is a piece that could be worn by almost any female performer you can think of, whereas Diamandis' calling card is the quirky Mowgli's Road, a lyric you can't imagine another performer writing or performing. And in the end, that's why The Family Jewels ends up something of a pop triumph, because the artist has put herself right there, vulnerable at the heart of the work, putting her views and music out there to be challenged. Yet, even doing that she refuses to define herself or her music and leaves the impression that she's got a huge number of musical avenues to explore. The likes of The Strokes might have made artistically perfect debuts, but The Family Jewels ends up being the debut that's perfect for the artist, allowing her to show off her talent but suggest there's more to her than we see here.
* unless of course you're American, in which case those nice boys immediately removed the track from the initial pressing after the NYPD did such a sterling job during 9/11 and any dissing of New York's finest might've led to a backlash.
No comments:
Post a Comment