SOUNDTRACK: PORTISHEAD-Third (2008).
This is probably one of the spookiest albums I’ve heard in a long time. And, boy, do I love it.
Portishead has been away from the music scene for about ten years. They’d had a couple of hits, sort of gloomy trip hop all held together by Beth Gibbons’ otherworldly voice (“Nobody loves me, it’s true, not like you do”). But frankly, after ten years I wasn’t even sure if I cared about Portishead anymore. And then, I heard the songs!
Beth Gibbons’ voice sounds even more ghostly than before. And the noises that Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley make are totally beyond the pale. Some of the music sounds like pieces from a late night horror movie. Take the bizarro verse music of “Hunter,” guitar chords stretched beyond recognition alternating with a keyboard riff straight out of “Revenge of the Cheapo Zombie Monster.” Or the aggressive soundtrack of “Machine Gun,” in which Gibbons sings over a musical piece that is more or less an electronic drum that sounds like a machine gun. It’s pretty intense.
But just when you think the whole disc is nothing but uneasy listening, they thrown in the beautiful acoustic simplicity of “The Rip,” a simple acoustic guitar playing over Gibbons’ sultry voice, or “Deep Water” a minute and a half of old timey ukulele music. Of course, these songs are bookeneded by two creepy tracks: “Plastic” in all its eeriness, and “We Carry On” some of the most unusual sounds ever to be called music (aside from Einsturzende Neubauten, of course).
Somehow all of the unsettling sounds work wonderfully together. And, although I haven’t processed all the lyrics yet, previous Portishead albums would lead me to believe that things aren’t very peachy in Gibbons’ world. And yet, despite that, I find the album very uplifting and not at all depressing.
Maybe every band should take ten years between records if it yields results this great.
[READ: November 16, 2008] The Ultimate Game Guide to Your Life®
I used to work with the author of this book. Perhaps a dozen or so years ago, Christopher (just Chris back then) Monks and I worked at Wordsworth Books in beautiful Cambridge, MA. When I learned that he was writing for McSweeney’s (and has since become the editor of their online website) I was very impressed and happy for him and not at all jealous or seething with envy at his wonderful, picturesque life in the Massacusetts suburbs. But, more to the point, when I read his works, and his website, he displayed humor that was in little evidence at work. (Talk about compartmentilization…).
Anyhow, he recently sent a generic email to everyone who has ever written him to say that he has a book out (and would we all go buy it, please). Well, I’m always game to help someone who over the years I have come to consider a former co-worker. (more…)
I Just Read About That... 