Gomez
Abandoned Shopping Trolley Hotline

THE REVIEW

The best quality of the Gomez? I think they are unbeatable when it comes to giving, how should I put it, full sense to any sound fragment. Their music comes from many small shards organized like a very personal microcosm, united, coordinated, and made into an indispensable organ of those completed "ensembles" that turn out to be their works.
An exception that confirms the rule is this atypical collection dated the year 2000: in this case, the bare, shattered, and improvised fragment is deprived of its freedom to create an osmosis that, personally, I believe only great bands possess. It is not difficult to understand how a collection of B-sides, rarities, and remade covers is a tremendous double-edged sword as it presents us with a more genuine musical expression, devoid of the shine of major productions: so allow me to say that Gomez, in this more "Indie" guise, brilliantly pass the test of facing their music, with the bare skin (pardon the pun), but never trivial or somewhat repetitive.

Speaking of these fifteen "madnesses," I prefer to start with the covers, Flavors and Getting Better: unable to debate the beauty of the first, I'd like to emphasize how the second, with the Lennon-McCartney trademark, has been extrapolated, manipulated, and served back to us as a song by Gomez.
Then, simply because I can't help it (it's the sonic whirlwind that overwhelms the enthusiast), I must move on to the examination of excellent renditions: the famous 78 Stone Stubble becomes Shuffle, with an impeccable live execution for the BBC; turn up the volume to believe it, the effect is swing that turns over your local joint. The other, the famous and beautiful We Haven't Turned Around, returns raw and bare, missing its orchestral quality, but decidedly alive, pulsating, and heartfelt.

If the album ended here, I believe the most ardent fans would already be satisfied even if the section of excellent "sawn-off" pieces is still missing, those pearls that make you fall in love precisely because they are forgotten and discovered by chance. One above all? Buena Vista. Eight stunning minutes, half of which are instrumental in a sort of psychedelic revival recorded on a four-track in the box behind the house.
Great, but I wouldn't want to forget Wharf Me or Rosemary, so poignant as to be atypical in the production of Gomez, and now a doubt arises: what would be the true production of our heroes? Difficult answer... better to continue listening and discover other gems like the two Shitbag, tinged with Blues, Bring Your Lovin' Back Here or the sickly Hit On The Head, The Cowboy Song.

I'm sure of one thing: with a targeted production, it could have been passed off as the excellent predecessor to In Our Gun. Long live honesty then...