Pink Mountaintops
Outside Love

I expected very little from the third release of the Pink Mountaintops (side project of the BM leader Stephen McBean), in light of the mouse birthed by the (Black) Mountain last year.

Zero interest, therefore, in giving McBean the so-called second chance because the fear of another half disappointment, already anticipated online by the horrible cover, was too great. And as often happens lately, I was pleasantly surprised. The pompous and baroque vein already evident in Black Mountain's "In The Future" is well present, almost lurking, but transfigured in the pop melodies of Pink Mountaintops, becoming something different. It remains more of a scarecrow, a warning, and the fine balancing act between pompousness and richness of the arrangements on one side, and kitsch and gaudiness of the same on the other, incredibly holds up for (almost) all 10 tracks.

A blatantly pop album, which takes as much from Phil Spector as from the Jesus And Mary Chain, therefore absolutely nostalgic, but in its own way courageous. And almost presumptuous one might say, so great is the desire to write pieces that, instead of simply citing sources, try to create new pop archetypes for the '00s. An operation much more difficult than diving into the pop crossbreeding so fashionable in recent years, certainly more proactive (I think of the work done by the last Animal Collective, or St. Vincent, Yeasayer, Dirty Projectors, Fiery Furnaces and many more), but paradoxically more "easy", often a child of instinct but less perfectionist. McBean's work in the recording studio reeks of maniacal craftsmanship from afar. The ultra-fuzz guitar (but in the distance) that appears halfway through the gentle "While We Were Dreaming" (did someone say Mazzy Star?), is a glaring example of what was written above. It seems like a wrong sound, tossed there, but it's the antithesis.

And it is precisely the small details that make this album precious and bring out the overall picture. There are many such key moments: the angelic chorus that forcefully opens the melody of "Vampire" towards unexpected peaks; the Morricone-like whistling halfway through the title track, while fuzz and Moog below chatter amicably; the final crescendo that lifts "And I Thank You" out of the mire; the tambourine and that monstrously reverberated drum on "Execution."

Small joys that become great with the 3 minutes and more of "Holiday": harmonica, banjo, slowly Velvet-like pace, Young and Dylan looking (and approving) from above.

Among the best pop releases of the year!