Skunk Anansie
Wonderlustre

No. There is no anger. There is the craft, the arrangement, the Bono Vox-like verses, and much more.

Let me clarify right away: "Wonderlustre" is a pleasure to listen to. But those who craved the new sensation, like in the era of the nineties Skunk Anansie, could have easily stopped at the unreleased tracks from the compilation two years ago. And we would have spared ourselves the lament for the void left by the 2001 split.

Let's hope the mainstream looks favorably upon "Wonderlustre" even if the four Brits have already made their statement. Even if they've gathered a pool of aficionados and are starting to make albums "with the craft." And this craft, for the honor of the arms they deserve, we still like.

"The Sweetest Thing" seems to be birthed by an inspired The Edge on the six-string. The album's opener "God Loves Only You," also driven by a decent riff, opens on "no class" choruses reminiscent of the more aggressive and compelling works of the nineties. "Feeling The Itch" and the first single ("Ugly Boy") truly have the impact to be fitting tracks for rotation on various channels.

The grievances, therefore, are not lacking.

"Over The Love" and "You Can’t Always Do What You Like," more in the bad than the good, could have been interpreted just as well by the latest U2. And we wouldn’t have noticed whose pen they came from.

And where has Skin's visceral approach gone? Because the voice is still graciously the same, but the singer's vocal range came from an unknown and unreachable place for the rest of us rockers. The vocals of "Post Orgasmic Chills" (1999) delved into the soul with the unease of obscene and turbulent compositions.

"My Love Will Fall" and the vocal performance of "Talk Too Much" try to bring us back to this more visceral approach. Both tracks, in the crescendo of verses alternating with the obsessive chorus lines, let us imagine, for a moment, that the lyrics are on par with the rest. Then you realize that, maybe, yes, the level is high, but not high enough to go beyond the lines of the politically correct. Like good schoolchildren, pointing the finger and making the mark, we realize that even the vocals are no longer too far above the lines of the staff.

They will speak, rightly so, of artistic maturity. There was chaos inside that dancing star.

Today, unfortunately, it's just a star.