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Carl
- A 'Fifth' Catholic -
Ireland
11546 Posts |
 Posted - 05/26/2007 : 12:38:40
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Thanks, K!
Pop and Jazz in Review
By JON PARELES
Published: July 1, 1993
The The Paramount
For stretches of its set on Friday night, the The might almost have been
an English blues band. A chugging beat, simple chords and a hooting
harmonica carried songs from the The's new album, "Dusk" (Epic).
But as the rest of the concert showed, the The has less to do with
musical style than with attitude.
Matt Johnson, the The's guitarist and songwriter, is a mope-rock exemplar. Since 1981 he
has made an album every two or three years, singing dire, pessimistic views on everything
from romantic love to the Americanization of England to the imminence of Armageddon.
His lyrics are plain and direct, mirroring the ceaseless torments of sensitive adolescents: "I
can never, never, never find peace in this life," he croons in "Bluer Than Midnight." In his
latest songs, Mr. Johnson ponders love, telling one partner, "You're the strangest feeling I
ever had," and another, "You make me cry when you look in my eyes." When he's not
long-suffering he's ominous, but he concludes, in a tune with Beatles harmonies, that
"Life's too short to be alone."
Through the years, the The's music has been orchestral or rocking, gentle or harsh; the
melodies are concise and unshowy. The unifying element is Mr. Johnson's voice, quiet and
breathy or rising to a baritone with a desperate vibrato. On a stage set suggesting a
decrepit warehouse's wall of windows, his current six-man band chugged along calmly,
topping basic blues-rock and folk-rock with bits of distortion or stereo-panning guitar. The
shaven-headed Mr. Johnson didn't get overwrought as he sang. He was just a dutiful bad-
news bearer, nearly sure that there's worse to come.
The pseudonymous Frank Black, who opened the concert, used to call himself Black
Francis when he led the Pixies. His new band, and the songs on his album, "Frank
Black" (4 A.D./Elektra), draw on the Pixies' ingredients: fast punk-rock, slower heavy-
metal stomps, twangy California pop and touches of cheesy surf and soundtrack music.
They're all tossed together in erratic proportions behind oblique lyrics about things like
U.F.O. conventions, Fu Manchu mustaches and John Denver (the inspiration, Mr. Black
revealed, for the sympathetic "Czar"). Mr. Black has a guileless pop voice that he
sometimes pushes to an exasperated snarl or a scream, yet staying deadpan. His songs are
cranky but utterly sure-footed, daring listeners to delve for meaning between the catchy
guitar riffs. |
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