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Rating: An impressive debut by Golfrapp with this album, dated back to 2000, breaking into the music scene with a soft-pop-rock characterized by dreamy, melancholic, and visionary atmospheres, widely imitated by many bands in the following years.
A beautiful and enchanting album, with a revival of certain 60s sounds, orchestral openings reminiscent of Morricone (always him!), and naive passages with Fellini-esque memories. One of my favorites, still tremendously current with an evocative power that places it among the evergreen titles of my personal discography.
I would like to focus on the psychedelic/Morricone-esque intro of "Lovely Head" (already used for a famous TV commercial), practically perfect: 20 seconds that deeply mark the entire album, presenting its identity right upfront.
Great detailed work by the duo Allison Goldfrapp (the splendid voice) and Will Gregory, who arranges, composes, and performs everything (most of the recordings were done and mixed "at home and in the bungalow," as the liner notes tell us, and it would be worth opening a separate discussion on the production costs/quality relationship, but let's leave that aside...). As we were saying, a magical and evocative album, light-years away from their second effort, the maligned "Black Cherry," where the psychedelic and proto-punk components took over, effectively nullifying the foundations from which they started.
A pity, because I much preferred these Goldfrapp from the "felt mountains," but I am convinced that, given the versatile and absolutely unpredictable nature of the duo, we should expect more new changes in direction, and we... will be there waiting.
Highly recommended for those who love intelligent and classy pop/rock (and what class!).
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Lovely Head (03:51)
It starts in my belly
Then up to my heart
Into my mouth I can't keep it shut
Do you recognize the smell
Is that how you tell
Us apart
I fool myself
To sleep and dream
Nobody's here
No-one but me
So cool
You're hardly there
Why can't this be killing you
Frankenstein would want your mind
Your lovely head
Your lovely head
02 Paper Bag (04:08)
No time to fuck
But you like the rush
And where would we
Be without sums
Deals we make
Brown paper bag makes for a hat
When it rains on
Your head mate
Cheers for that
When the world stops for snow
When you laugh
I'm inside
Your mouth
Baboons and birds
Sucking the sun
With the weight of you dear
I forgot
03 Human (04:38)
They fall
From your mouth
Propelled by your belly
And your tongue
I shiver when you shake
And fold into jelly
I think I loved you more than me
Are you human
Or a dud
Are you human
Or d'you make it up
My baby cherry slipped
Pass me through your fingertips
Throw me down like an old rag
I'm not standing
Don't look back
Are you human
Or d'you make it up
They went searching
For your body
They went looking but there's nobody
Who smells like you
Who looks like you
Your not human, too
04 Pilots (04:32)
armored cars sail the sky
they're pink at dawn
if i lived forever you
just wouldn't be
so beautiful as the sun
when it shines
all over the world
we're pilots watching stars
the world preoccupied
we're pilots watching stars
who do we think we are
ice and clouds shimmer outside
rain just falls
at magic hour
it's just the sound
of you and me
time twitching
murmurs of
our friendly machine
we're pilots watching stars
the world preoccupied
we're pilots watching stars
who do we think we are
05 Deer Stop (04:09)
Deer stop bottle in a shell
Shoot a thousand stars over me
Say my name whisper it
I am deliciously wired
I am falling in a cloud
Shoot a thousand stars over me
Say my name
Whisper it
08 Utopia (04:20)
"It's a strange day
No colours or shapes
No sound in my head
I forget who I am
When I'm with you
There's no reason
There's no sense
I'm not supposed to feel
I forget who I am
I forget
Fascist baby
Utopia, utopia
My dog needs new ears
Make his eyes see forever
Make him live like me
Again and again
Fascist baby
Utopia, utopia
My dog needs new ears
I'm wired to the world
That's how I know everything
I'm super brain
That's how they made me
Fascist baby
Utopia, utopia"
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By Saputello
Write me a record, for me, for my voice, for my sexual desire.
Her voice is blood mist, and his Nino Rota-like strings are male fire.
