Skunk Anansie
Wonderlustre

I don't even read it; forget the punctuation. I must be the one to post the first review on Debaser for the return of my super-mega-ultra-extra-hyper favorite band. I know more than everyone about the Skunk Anansie. First and foremost, how to spell the name. And also how to pronounce it. Then there's the bald chick, Skin, who is Black. And then they're British and very famous. Especially in the '90s. Did the band break up, or were they just on a very long hiatus? I can't remember exactly, maybe it's the excitement, but what matters is that now they've returned with this CD, and a true fan like me can finally describe “Wonderlustre.”

It doesn't happen often, but the week before the 27th there is usually more calm at work. So I leave the office just as the big boss Estiqaatsi has finished enlightening and updating me on the main events of the day just passed. I listen to the radio very rarely, and thus I'm sufficiently struck by the compelling, and only seemingly muscular, rock of the single “My Ugly Boy” and its captivating melody which was unknown to me until that moment. I find myself in a nearby store looking for a couple of unpronounceable albums that are hard to believe exist outside of my imagination. Obviously, they haven't arrived yet. Tomorrow at 8, the owner reassures me. Reinforcing pause that convinces no one, and then he concludes by repeating: tomorrow for sure. Translated, it means at least 10 days. The problem is that I want a CD now, damn it.

For a false metalhead like me, the covers have been a real problem. Some get excited, and others, on the contrary, often had to feel ashamed. Sometimes, as a young and timid teenager, they were so horrifying I almost had trouble going to the counter: I would turn the CD almost out of modesty as if I found myself behind a pharmacy counter buying my first pack of condoms. By comparison, the cover of “Wonderlustre” is satisfying: an almost dazzling beauty seeing this heart made of fabric, suspended in mid-air.

Of course, I was already acquainted with Skin's voice. Just turn on the TV or more simply enter a public place. But to truly grasp a singer's vocal qualities, you need the tranquility of a room and preferably a decent stereo. It only took the melancholic and powerful crescendo of the opener “God Loves You” to be blown away. And sunk. Not so much for her ability to reach high notes. It's like warm clay: she shifts from a clean tone to a gritty one as if it's nothing. An impressive demonstration of vocal cord control. Overall, the enjoyable and enjoyable "Wonderlustre" boasts a production that, for sound cleanliness, borders on perfection. Okay, I've been used to listening to CDs with a double-bass drum that sounded like it was recorded on supermarket cardboard boxes, but it's really satisfying to turn up the volume.

The CD overall exudes experience, craft, and professionalism. A bit sneaky with some undoubtedly cute and immediate hits, as bland upon repeated listens. Among others, the harmless and overly smooth pop-rock of "Over The Love"/"You Can’t Always…", the robust and predictable teenage ride "It Doesn’t Matter", the slow "You Saved Me": as original as standing water in a sink full of dishes left unwashed for a couple of days.

The best of the record, in my opinion, is found in the first part: after the sparkling start, represented by the one-two that opens the show, the arpeggio on which Skin's voice lightly rests is captivating. She hops from one verse to another, agile and assuredly as she reaches the chorus, well emphasized by a symphonic crescendo that is anything but predictable and banal, combined with an easy, yet striking guitar work. "Talk Too Much" is truly a fleeting and classically sad melody. I wonder how "My Ugly Boy", a good song, was chosen as the first single when a track as caliber as "The Sweetest Thing" is available. A piece masterfully interpreted and capable of becoming addictive due to a simple mid-tempo structure, with an almost hypnotic rhythm in its progression, enriched by a precious backing vocals work.

There are also other interesting things, more fast/more angry/theatrical, but it's up to you to search for them. From the height of my unfamiliarity with the band and unable to make a comparison with their glorious past etc... Yes, from the height of all this, overall widely promoted. 40 minutes that flow well: lots of craft, but also strokes of good music for a CD worth three and a half stars that I'm glad I got.

Then after two or three days, I don't remember, I take it out of the stereo. I go on the internet and see that none of you, the real Skunk Anansie fans I mean, have written anything, so I find myself wanting to press keys at night. Sleepless.

ilfreddo