Tuesday, 05 December 2006
Britpop’s Poet Laureate, a man so well known that he only needs one name (much like his asexual Mancunian forerunner, Morrissey), Jarvis returns from a four year exile with a his debut solo record that clearly asserts his place at the apex of Rock’s abilities...
Whilst our newspapers and televisions are being swamped by cultural retards, fame obsessesed Sadfabs, people who want only to be famous without any talent or ability, by idiots hailed as kings, by unoriginal, visionless, barely literate idiots passing as the voice of our generation, Jarvis stood immobile. Not necessarily sure or assured, but he stood firm for what he saw as important : for intelligence, wit, insight, and for a peculiarly British vocal lexicon more real – and worthy of artistic longevity - than a dozen Artic Monkeys.
Because for Jarvis it all comes down to a handful of small, telling clues. “The skinny little bitch in the hotpants” that catches his eye and wastes your time. The fat children who want your mobile phone with the pictures of the kids and the wife. This is a far cry from the aspirant, class-jealously of “Different Class”, or the suburban sex epics of “His’N’Hers”. This is the sound of fearful middle age, kicking against the pricks, the cunts still running the world, and the sound of adults bewildered and baffled that their generation is just as fucked up and useless as the one their parents belonged to. The ones we swore we would never be.
Musically, aided and abetted by formed Pulp alumni Steve Mackey and Richard Hawley, “Jarvis” (no need for surnames) breaks no new ground, instead offering a comforting tapestry of semi-broken semi-glam rock. In fact, in many ways, it’s Pulp in all but name. The alien-yet-strangely-familiar twists and turns of songs like “Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time” and ”Black Magic” prove you can take the man from Pulp, but not the Pulp from the man. Wordplay, Cocker’s other trademark, makes even the musically duller songs spin and dance with a verbal dexterity rarely seen outside immensely quotable action films : “it’s the same from Auschwitz to Ipswich” offers a wonderfully perverse worldview. The type that has been missed.
And “Jarvis” is a record that gets better with age. The thrill of the new, one that inspires hyperbole in the arms of many a reviewer, does not wear off here. “Jarvis” is as vibrant and brilliant as anything released this year.
Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register. Powered by AkoComment 1.0 beta 2! |
