The Silencers
Come

The latest album released by the Silencers can undoubtedly be defined as the worst in their entire discography. Not that it lacks the Celtic flavors that characterized the entire artistic trajectory of Jimme O'Neill and his alter ego Cha Burns, absent in this album as he was already gravely afflicted with an illness that recently led to his passing. At the same time, the episodes of enchanting wave folk and wave rock are well present. And here Jimme, no longer the icy voice of the past, rather hoarse (sometimes sounding like Richard Marx), becomes as accessible as the super-radio-friendly James Blunt in his folk-pop singles... There's also a catchy single, the Celtic-Indian-British beat-rock of "Siddharta", full smoothness, amusement-flattening...

And so what is it that keeps "Come" from being another "So Be It", another "Seconds Of Pleasure", without wanting to compare it to the superb "Dance To The Holy Man"?

O'Neill's first problem is finding the right place for his daughter Aura, a vocalist who joined the lineup on the previous album. Her country-nun-like voice is very useful in expanding the breath of the songs sung by her dad, and her harmonies, her backing vocals behind the good Jimme work just fine. Conversely, difficulties arise when the beautiful Aura is the sole performer. Her voice is technically very good but the interpretation sometimes lacks depth, flattening the level of the compositions that daddy has eagerly put at her disposal. But even with the compositions served by Jimme, I would have something to criticize.

Jimme O'Neill has also been a writer for others, primarily during the early 80s, before returning to the mic with the Silencers, and therefore he knows well what it means to write a song for an artist with whom one might have little to share in terms of tastes and stylistic perspective. Nevertheless, although the lullaby of the title track holds up, "I Belong" is a pop ballad so saccharine and banal that, even when decontextualized from the album and the sound of the band, it would hardly find space in any female pop artist's album. It's also difficult to take "Alchemy" (which would fit well on a pop star's album), with its 60s jukebox aftertaste, and make it feel "at ease" inside a Celtic album, all thanks solely to Aura's voice and the usual arrangements.

O'Neill, anyway, to his credit, challenges himself and his perpetual predisposition-preference for 3-4 minute chansos with a standard-normal format: "Head" is seven minutes of accelerations and slowdowns. Of course, they're not the early U2 with solemnity and violence, but we're talking here about ultra-romantic slowdowns and old-style British rock counterattacks. Even with "Time", it seems he wants to go beyond mere catchiness: starting from his ethnic roots, reaching rock heights of personal record. All this, even if it leads to a rather approximate result, perhaps marks O'Neill's ability (and/or desire?) to go beyond "the sound of Silencers".

The fact is that this 2004 CD is still the last from the band, whose website has long promised the release of a solo work from its leader, recently released, which I haven't yet had the chance to get my hands on. The last in chronological order and in quality. The last and the least. Perhaps forever.