Marc Almond
Fantastic Star

What happens to an artist when the long wave of the trend they were part of and owed their fame and success to, comes to an end? If the artist in question is truly talented, they simply carry on without being too disturbed, just like Marc Almond did after an uninterrupted tour de force that led him, between Soft Cell and his solo career, to release no less than one album a year from 1980 to 1991, including EPs and side projects. Once his most intense and productive period was definitively behind him, with a remarkable fusion of disco-music and singer-songwriter flavor like "Tenement Symphony," the English artist took a five-year break, more than enough time to observe the changes and innovations of the new decade and take the best from it, adapting it to his style, and in 1996 he returned to the scene with "Fantastic Star," an album that clearly states, without any misunderstanding, that even though the '80s have come and gone, Marc Almond has no intention of stepping aside, armed with solid ideas, great inspiration, and an almost new and unexpected verve considering the sounds of his previous records.

"Fantastic Star" thus marks a very clear turning point in the artistic journey of the charismatic songwriter from Northampton, who, along with the '80s, also abandons his singer-songwriter inclinations and the gypsy and Middle Eastern influences that peaked with "Enchanted"; it is a pity, but every real and serious change of direction comes with sacrifices, and considering a tracklist that is overflowing but above all of very high quality, I would say it was worth it. "Fantastic Star" is one of those albums that you can understand a lot about just by looking at the cover: the search for a new, more modern and aggressive image is one of the album's crucial points, exploring the electronic sounds established in the 90s but also looking to the past, to disco obviously but above all to glam rock, which represents the most unique and defining feature of "Fantastic Star." With these premises, the final outcome can only be an intense and vibrant album, a perfect blend of scratching guitars and electronic pulses, decidedly more flesh than spirit. There are some ballads, "Child Star" is even one of the most beautiful and intense of his entire repertoire, not to mention the sweet and dreamy "The Edge Of Heartbreak" and the crooner-class of "Come In Sweet Assassin," but these are "only" marvelous interludes, full of chills and emotion, in a sensual, lascivious, and fascinating flow that expresses itself in a range of sounds that span from a sumptuous disco anthem like "Brilliant Creatures" to the dark-tinged electronics of a fiery and evocative "Caged." "Fantastic Star" is dominated by the glam rock-electronic duopoly, but in terms of detail, taste, and richness it has absolutely nothing to envy to the orchestral glories of the late '80s and early '90s and the new sound, fuller, direct, and almost muscular, is a continuous and unpredictable spectacle that reaches peaks like "Out There" with its overwhelming groove, the hypnotic and mechanical, almost industrial bass of "We Need Jealousy," examples of very high-class dance-pop like "Adored And Explored," enriched by a brilliant harmonica line and "Looking For Love (In All The Wrong Places)," where one can still feel, especially in the choruses, a bit of '80s sound; a slight noir touch in the languid and Latin-tinged "Love To Die For" and the bittersweet aftertaste of "Betrayed" with its refined guitar phrases.

An instrument, the electric guitar, not particularly usual in a Marc Almond album, "Fantastic Star" is perhaps a unique exception in all his discography and, apart from the bluesy parenthesis of "Betrayed," elsewhere it is used to scratch, to produce powerful, stylish, and catchy riffs, as is the tradition of the most classic glam rock of the early '70s; episodes like the sharp "Addicted" and a more glittery and hedonistic "On The Prowl," electronically restyled just enough not to be simple reproductions of the past, add further character to "Fantastic Star," along with, of course, the ultimate manifesto of this new Marc Almond in rock version and the most ambitious episode of the entire album: "The Idol (Parts 1 & 2 All Gods Falls)," a small and changing rock-opera concentrated in nine minutes that, starting from the most classic and engaging glam air laden with female choruses, arrives at a grand recitative marked by the bass where a myriad of characters are evoked, Rudolph Valentino and Kurt Cobain, Billie Holiday and Jimi Hendrix, Marilyn Monroe and James Dean, Marc Bolan and Jim Morrison; all fleeting appearances, all dismissed in two lines with cynicism and indifference. We are far from the dreamy poetics of "Celluloid Heroes" of Kinksian memory, here remains only the celebration of a glittering idol-factory assembly line, which turns into a crushing press with inevitable fatality. 

An album like "Fantastic Star," rich, witty, direct, engaging and catchy is the perfect manifesto for a renewed Marc Almond who does not seem to feel the weight of the years at all, different but always true to himself, with that sumptuous and elaborate style but always communicative and moving, never self-serving, recognizable among thousands; probably the best episode of his last twenty years of career, also because putting together the beauty of sixteen songs without any significant drop in style, without real missteps, is a clear sign of great inspiration; easy and immediate but at the same time ambitious and unpredictable, FS is shining and simply perfect, the squaring of the circle of a wonderful artist for whom fidelity to self has never been synonymous with sterile self-replication.