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Rating:
Ben Watt would have hardly believed, 20 years ago, a fortune teller predicting a decent commercial success linked to a dance production of quality (though not essential). How could he, anyway? After a solo effort boasting none other than Canterbury school maestro Robert Wyatt among its guests (the interesting "North Marine Drive," 1983), fortified by a refined musical sensitivity disinclined to compromise, by 1985, the English composer had already steered his Everything But The Girl toward a notable milestone: establishing the band’s first two albums, "Eden" (1984) and "Love Not Money" (1985), as breakout records of the "new cool" era. The winning formula showed its simplicity: letting the warm and languid voice—one of the most appreciated of the decade—of Tracey Thorn glide over soundscapes borrowed from soul and certain jazz. How much of the pop production to come would be nothing more than stolen kisses from "Each And Everyone" or "When All's Well"? The fact remains: the duo owes their fame, paradoxically, to the massive success of the remix of "Missing"—originally a splendid acoustic ballad from an equally enchanting album (a real homage to the art of Simon and Garfunkel, "Amplified Heart," 1994)—and the subsequent birth of this new wave for the duo (the fluctuating "Walking Wounded," 1996, the embarrassing "Temperamental," 1999).
The 'dance' turn finds foundation and, so to speak, "justification" when seen as a consequence of the severe health problems that had affected Ben in the early '90s: aware of the risk undertaken, the musician deliberately adopted a "get loose" philosophy. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be explained how only a few years earlier, at the end of '89, the duo had actually shut the door on producer Tommy Lipuma’s proposal to record an "all American" album. Closed in that peculiar musical purism all 'English'—the same one that loves musical contamination but knows the step is short from citing to emulating—the two would take some time to grasp the genius of Lipuma's intuition: lending Ben's agile melodic writing and Tracey’s precious vocal cords to a hyper-production project worthy of Steely Dan. And indeed—once the reserve was lifted—the intuition would give life to "The Language Of Life" (1990), an extraordinary compendium of blending and refined pop songs, with almost disarming formal impeccability and compositional complexity when compared to the musical landscape of their contemporaries. Never had EBTG dared so much, never again reaching such heights. Suffice it to say that the moving trumpet of Stan Getz in the concluding "The Road" is just an appetizer at a banquet offering much juicier courses: from the debut of "Driving"—one of the best pop songs of the decade (also a victim of a brutal remix)—to the rising rhythm of "Letting Love Go," from the delicate ballad of "Meet Me In The Morning" to the bluesy piano (Greg Phillinganes…) of the title track, the album is a continuous crossing of citations from the best of American “all time” cultured music. The questionable lyrical content of "Me And Bobby D." (a sarcastic critique of Dylan and Beat Generation philosophy) or even the preachy title track definitely takes a back seat to the fine craftsmanship of the sound and the interpretation of the songs, where Tracey’s voice seems to melt, an inimitable instrument of a superb orchestra.
"Take Me" by Womack and Womack, "Imagining America," the keyboard play of "Get Back Together," and the exhilarating horns of "My Baby Don't Love Me" close the circle of an overly-arranged, clean, utterly engaging, and unique album, yet another happy demonstration that sometimes the best choices come to artists from unexpected paths. Class.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Driving (03:59)
Oh loverboy To you I belong
But maybe one day you'll wake
and you'll find me gone
But loverboy
If you call me home
I'll come driving
I'll come driving fast as wheels can turn
Oh loverboy I know you too well
and all of my lonely secrets
To you I tell
The highest of highs
The lowest of lows
I'll come driving
I'll come driving fast as wheels can turn
Stretching away as far as my eyes can see
Deserts and darkness, my hand on the wheel
loverboy, please call me home
A girl can get lonely out here on the road
You see Some days I find the old ways
Frighten me too easily
I leave my key and say "I'm too young"
But loverboy
If you call me home
I'll come driving fast as wheels can turn
04 Me and Bobby D (04:09)
Me and Bobby D don't get along that easily.
You told the world, "Be free, love life".
Tell me, is it true you beat your wife?
You see, me and Bobby D don't get along that easily.
You told the world, "Skip rules fave fun".
Knocked her from here to kingdom come?
How many girls have you had today?
And how many bottles have you downed today?
And while you're on the skids, who's minding the kids?
Go to sleep Bobby D, here's a kiss,
don't worry your pretty head about this.
Me and Saint Jack K never had too much to say.
It's easy driving with your feet,
with some good ol' girl in the passenger seat
watching the road all day,
"Oh honey, what funny things you do say."
But while you're out of your head
who's making the bed?
Go to sleep Bobby D, here's a kiss,
don't worry your pretty head about this.
Go to sleep Saint Jack K,
don't worry your tiny head today
Me and old Bobby D don't get along that famously
A saviour and a seer? Maybe,
but he never meant that much to me.
Sure, I'd love a wild life,
but every wild man needs a mother or wife.
The seven seas you roam
and who's waiting at home?
07 Imagining America (04:59)
Oh, and how he loved you
Oh, and how he loved you
Oh, and you believed him
Oh, and you believed him
You said you both deserve better
You both deserve better
Could make it a real thing
Could make it a real thing
On a clear day
You can see the sea from your place
On a fine day
You can still remember his face
He just kept right on...
Imagining America
He just kept right on...
Imagining America
And he was so handsome
He was so handsome
It was 1919
It was 1919
Sailing to New York
Sailing to New York
Just for you
Just for you
It was a clear day
Waiting from the quay, saw him
Was a fine day
Standing with the world before him
He just kept right on...
Imagining America
He just kept right on...
Imagining America
Don't he have no feelings...
always feel like mountains
and deserts and stars
Cities have been tamed
and they all know your name
They have money
and houses and cars
(sax solo)
So I stand here
So I stand here
In his footsteps
In his footsteps
We deserve better
We deserve better
And I can make it a real thing
And I can make it a real thing
It's a clear day
It's a clear day
Only in a final embrace
Only in a final embrace
It's a fine day
It's a fine day
The world remember our face...
The world remember our face...
And I just kept right on...
Imagining America
And I just kept right on...
Imagining America
We keep on, we keep
Imagining America, America
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By DBMsonic1
All this always with her soothing voice and without ever sounding like she's giving us a sermon on male incommunicability!
For all those who loved the elegant atmospheres of the so-called English sophisti-pop, Everything But The Girl was an essential name.
