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The Prefab Sprout are universally recognized as a balm for the contemporary pop scene. They have credibility, but they are not successful. They are almost forgotten, the core of the band disbanded: the leader and mastermind of the project, Patrick Dominic McAloon, more commonly Paddy, has been a solo artist for about fifteen years and, for various reasons, releases something, old recordings, old demos rearranged and remastered, maintaining the project's name whenever some record label allows him. Because ours is compulsive, bulimic: he writes and composes at a frantic pace. He made entire albums on Michael Jackson, Donna Summer, imaginary characters, situations, catastrophes, experiences. A visionary always halfway between the real and the fantastic. The backing singer, Wendy, has been taking care of her family since 1997 and delights us on Twitter, Neil Conti is fundamentally a session drummer, and his brother Martin grows potatoes in Catalonia (kidding: every now and then he pops up on fan-managed portals and gifts some unsolicited gems like the reinterpretation of "When Love Breaks Down" accompanied by the bass, editor's note).
"Jordan: The Comeback", their fifth studio effort, was released in late 1990, gaining consensus but, as the first symptom of the ailment, selling little. This is the curse of the Prefab Sprouts. People like them. Selling, they do not. "Steve McQueen" (1985), which peeks into any list of "albums you absolutely must listen to before you die" or "100 albums that made the history of so-and-so," in relation to the generated echo, sold little, very little.
That's how it is, Paddy. I assure you that I tried: besides purchasing your every product, I spread the word, praised your composer skills halfway between Lennon and McCartney (no sacrilege, eh. I meant: ours has the dreams of the former and the torments of the latter), I talked about your love for music that drives you to continue working even though Ménière’s syndrome is taking away your hearing and sight, I played your albums to knowledgeable and competent people, but the reaction is always the same: great, great. But it ends there.
Let's get back to the album. The Jordan that has to come back, perhaps from the moon, is Elvis. The album is largely dedicated to him, but not only. It's a heterogeneous work that builds its foundations on the masterful production of Thomas Dolby, mastermind of the multi-gold "Steve McQueen" (1985). Prefab hate being monothematic, so aspiring to Elvis’ return fits, but in a context of love, prayer, and memories. The sound is softer compared to other works due to the abundance of keyboards: the album is more akin to its direct predecessor, "From Langley Park To Memphis" (1988), rather than "Steve McQueen". The immeasurable sweetness of "Nightingales", for example, is found in "We Let The Stars Go" (Paddy: "I was supposed to see Michael Jackson, I had tickets, then inspiration struck to write this song, I dropped everything and sat at the piano"). The album tends not to bore the listener because it sets the pace with mastery: the engaging and metaphysical "Looking For Atlantis" gives way to the "quiet Sunday afternoons (without snow will fall, thank God, editor's note)" of "Wild Horses", followed by "Machine Gun Ibiza" that swiftly passes, then lulls us back into a dreamy state with the already mentioned "We Let The Stars Go".
Paddy reintroduces Elvis with sweetness, symphonic purity, dance, and futuristic metrics in "Jordan: The Comeback" (the track), "Jesse James Symphony", "Jesse James: Bolero", and "Moondog". Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys, interviewed during the period, ironically stated: "Oh, no! Him again? (Paddy, editor's note). Enough! But what does this album represent? Will they ever manage to write a hit sooner or later? But can an album with 19 tracks have just one decent one, named, excuse me if I laugh, "Jesse James Bolero"? And then all those references to America ("Hey Manhattan, from "From Langley Park To Memphis", editor's note) but when was he there? Come on, enough… write a hit!". It’s a matter of taste, Uncle Neil: not everyone is genetically predisposed to bona fide hits. Perhaps McAloon's trademark, which many appreciate, is precisely this, never having succumbed to compromise.
After bidding Jordan / Jesse James / Elvis an appropriate farewell, the album relaxes by addressing love, faith ("One Of The Broken" is a direct line to God), announcing the birth of a daughter ("Paris Smith"), writing a little note to Jacko ("Michael") and gradually melting away until the utter peace infused in "Doo Wop in Harlem". In the middle, two notable climaxes: "The Ice Maiden" (damn, Paddy, you do have a voice: whip it out sometimes, come on!) and "Scarlet Nights". "Mercy On Me" and the filler (which fills with the listener's joy and evokes a melancholy smile) "The Wedding March" are appreciated soft pink interludes.
"Jordan" is an atypical concept album, played with uncommon kindness. Even where the rhythm increases ("Carnival 2000" and "Machine Gun Ibiza"), there is a fear of forcing the hand, and the track ends up leaving something in terms of personality. The production by Dolby, combined with McAloon’s tireless vein, is a chemistry that works, but the impression is that they can’t take flight. A serene, contemplative journey, a trip from here to there that, despite the large number of tracks (nineteen), ends quickly. It brings you back exactly where you started from, and the aftertaste is absolutely good, sweet. A small marvel born in a hectic period, where few stopped to take a break and almost no one bothered to shake the Prefab Sprout awake, sending them up there, high, perhaps alongside those U2, Simple Minds, Pet Shop Boys who just raised their voices more than them.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Looking for Atlantis (04:03)
If you're looking for Atlantis
You should cast your eye on me
Put your two and two together
Don't you know who built Atlantis
Then returned to the sea
Don't you know who owns the weather ?
Rain or shine
Sure is good to seek a challenge
Sure is fine to set your sights
Sure is foolish to be blinded
There are legions out there churching
Searching for the holy grail
Isn't one of them can find it
All this time
You should be loving someone
And you know who it must be
Cause you'll never find Atlantis
Til you make that someone me
You should be loving someone
And you know who it must be
Cause you'll never find Atlantis
Til you make that someone me
Say you do find your volcano and the darn thing is still hot
Lesson one : Child don't waste it
Lesson two : The world's your cherry
But tomorrow ? Maybe not
Lesson three : Come on and taste it
All this time
You should be loving someone
And you know who it must be
Cause you'll never find Atlantis
Til you make that someone me
You should be loving someone
And you know who it must be
Cause you'll never find Atlantis
Til you make that someone me
02 Wild Horses (03:44)
Through the rails I spied
Your ponytail. I tried
With sugar cubes - And they're O.K.
But I don't think
I'll catch you that way
I hate myself 'cause you're so cool
With your mocking eyes
"Won't you look at the old fool"
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to
Look at you - Unflawed.
Now look at me - Plain overawed
Grace and looks take no credit for
Girl you're young
And they're part of the score
Like the chemicals at war in me
'Til I'm a wolf with an eye for the ponies
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to
I want extra time to play,
Afternoons in the hay
It's a sorry way for a man to feel
But sentimental is part of the deal
I hate myself because it shows how
I'm a fool for your rodeo
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have
Wild horses - I want to have you
04 We Let the Stars Go (03:39)
There was that girl I used to know
She'd tease me about my name
Fan the embers long enough
I sometimes catch her flame
The soothing voice of distance tells me
"That was just a fling"
Other music fills my ears
But I still hear her sing :
She sings :
Paddy Joe, say Paddy Joe
Don't you remember me ?
How long ago one gorgeous night
We let the stars go
Paddy Joe, say Paddy Joe
Don't you remember me ?
How long ago one gorgeous night
We let the stars go free
There was a boy I used to be
I guess that he was cold
If she came to buy him now
How cheaply he'd be sold
But the light is gone and it is dark
What used to be the sky
Is suddenly embarrassing
To the naked eye
You see :
Paddy Joe, see Paddy Joe
Can't face this memory
How long ago one gorgeous night
We let the stars go
Paddy Joe, see Paddy Joe
Can't face this memory
How long ago one gorgeous night
We let the stars go
Long ago one gorgeous night
We let the stars go
Long ago one stupid night
We let the stars go free
We let the stars go free
We let the stars go free
We let the stars go free
We let the stars go free
05 Carnival 2000 (03:23)
Tonight let's raise a glass my friend
To those who couldn't make it
A century has shut its eyes
And who are we to wake it ?
Cool music we play, dance and say
Carnival 2000 :
Lives come and go but life no denial
Is always in style. Welcome to :
Carnival 2000 :
Loves come and go but love above all
Is belle of the ball
We ask for any wrong we've done
The years ahead forgive us
We ask for any good we've done
That all of it outlive us
Cool music we play, dance and say
Carnival 2000 :
Lives come and go but life no denial
Is always in style. Welcome to :
Carnival 2000 :
Loves come and go but love above all
Is belle of the ball
Welcome to :
Carnival 2000 :
Lives come and go but life no denial
Is always in style. Welcome to :
Carnival 2000 :
Loves come and go but love above all
Is belle of the ball
06 Jordan: The Comeback (04:13)
They say the spirit moves in mysterious ways
Sometimes the way it moves looks plain berserk
But two things you should be slow to criticize
A mans choice of woman and his choice of work
Some work'll earn you top dollar
In this here tinsel town
That's where I started thinkin' of something else
Cos they couldn't film the spirit
From the waist on down
Sometimes I don't sleep too well,
But one day I know :
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
And all those books about me
Well there wasn't much love in 'em boys
I'm tellin' you if I'd taken all that medication
Man, I'da rattled like... one o' my lil girls toys
Now they call me a recluse
Been in the desert so long
Layin' on my back bidin' my time
I'm just waitin' for the right song
Then I'm comin' back
Sometimes I don't sleep too well,
But one day I know :
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
Jordan sweet Jordan
Hand me any cup you find that's lyin' spare
Lord I've long time been a thirstin' for a share
Jordan waiting for me there
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
Jordan sweet Jordan
Hand me any cup you find that's lyin' spare
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
Jordan sweet Jordan
Hand me any cup you find that's lyin' spare
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
End of the road I'm travelling,
I will see Jordan beckoning
Jordan sweet Jordan
Hand me any cup you find that's lyin' spare
13 Paris Smith (02:55)
Little Paris Smith
Lovely name for a girl is Paris Smith
Baby Paris Smith
Don't repeat my mistakes Paris Smith
Paris : Any music worth its salt is good for dancing
Paris : But I tried to be the Fred Astaire of words
Paris you heard
Little Paris Smith one day you'll have a job
Yes Paris Smith
Baby Paris Smith don't you grow up a snob
No Paris Smith
Paris : There are benefits to syncopated motion
Paris : Which no high falutin' double talk can show - Paris
Paris : Any music worth its salt is good for dancing
Paris : But I tried to be the Fred Astaire of words
Paris you heard
16 Michael (03:02)
All the jobs I've ever held, positions I have known
The one I was a fool to leave was
Right hand to the throne
Ambition took me speed of light
To God's exclusion zone
Michael if you're listening,
Michael who stayed true
One of us got out of line when Paradise was new
One of us was exiled and the one who wasn't's you
Michael - help me write a letter to you know who
I will sign it "Lucifer regrets..."
Can't forget his final words were
"Ain't no comeback gonna come your way"
What if I pray ?
Michael the archangel listen.
Michael don't you see ?
We've come to stand for principles that
Prove free will is free
If you are on the side of good
Now where does that leave me ?
Michael - help me write a letter to you know who
I will sign it "Lucifer regrets..."
Can't forget his final words were
"Ain't no comeback gonna come your way"
He never could resist a sinner
Or ignore a distress call - but such a fall
19 Doo Wop in Harlem (03:43)
There is a door we all walk through
And on the other side I'll meet you
Reunion in the air - A cappella meets pure prayer
Somewhere : I can't wait to meet you there
Somewhere : I can't wait to meet you there
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
There is a door it may seem locked
But in a little while - Don't be shocked
Above the noise, behind the glare
I know you're listening out there - Somewhere
Somewhere : I can't wait to meet you there
Somewhere : I can't wait to meet you there
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
If there ain't a heaven that holds you tonight
They never sang doo-wop in Harlem
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By alcol2
A perfect and unattainable synthesis of a path that for some has no equal in the post-Beatles era.
About seventy minutes of pure music, not a comma out of place, no concession to the slightest intent of 'mainstream,' a lethal distillation of perfect pop for the use and enjoyment of all generations.
