Page 36 - the Noise October 2017

ALBUM REVIEWS
OMD
The Punishment of Luxury (White Noise Records)
When I was a teen I recall that even back then it seemed improbable and embarrassing that the Rolling Stones hadn’t split up. Even 30 years ago they seemed like dino- saurs. The Stones were an anomaly at the time, because bands typically only hung around a few years, made a couple of LPs before crumbling due to that age-old and catch all scenario of “musical differences.” But time changes perspectives and it’s been interesting to witness the last decade or so, when many ‘80s bands find themselves back in the limelight from nos- talgic radio channels or adverts and find their youthful passions rekindled. It’s something that, with the arrogance of youth, I used to scorn. But these days? ... well, I’ve softened and must admit I find myself excited there is a new OMD LP.
Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark was a delightfully pretentious band name that no-one could remember or spell properly (especially with the British spelling), so the band wisely abbre- viated their name and consequently catapulted themselves up the pop charts and surrendered hit after hit throughout the ‘80s. Their early output was breathtaking and daring. At the time, you couldn’t even buy a synthesizer — the band famously (like Kraftwerk), built their own cir- cuits and rhythm units, using (now) primitive analog methods. Many of the sounds OMD traded with were physically created with a soldering iron and a bunch of transistors, and are now com- monplace presets on any cheap synth or drum machine. In this respect, they most definitely are pioneers and introduced a palette of sounds that is still in use today. Arty experimentation is fine and dandy of course, but what ensured OMD were regular visitors to the UK Top 10 was the undeniable sense of melody that ran through all of their cherished hits. They wrote infec- tious sing-along pop, even when their lyric content was oblique. For instance, can you name me any other band that had global hits at the time singing about dropping a bomb on Hiroshima (“Enola Gay”)? Or had not one but two top 10 hits about Joan of Arc? Or how about the foretell- ing “Genetic Engineering?” All a cut about the average “boy meets girl” chart fodder of the time.
OMD quietly resumed operations in 2010 with the fantastic History of Modern. Then fol- lowed with English Electric in 2013. Now we have what feels like the final part of a trilogy of OMD 2.0, with the accomplished brilliance of The Punishment of Luxury. Although the pro- duction is cleaner and tighter (digital vs. analog), as pop sensibilities go, everything is intact. It’s not a huge stretch from their heyday, and the songwriting still is delivered with precision and purpose. The opening 3 songs on side one are all supremely catchy, with a welcoming pop familiarity that holds their own against any songs in OMD’s back catalog.
The recent single “Isotope” may incite casual detractors to berate the band for sounding very similar to Kraftwerk, mainly for the processed vocal refrain, but it’s one I keep coming back to. It has many classic OMD elements, quirky intro, simple beats and skyscraper soar- ing synths, and layers of melody. The album highpoint for me is “Robot Man.” The vocoder vocal hook line is as earwormy as it gets for modern synth pop. Like all great OMD pop songs, it’s immediate and quirky. Also of note is the Peter Saville sleeve, who worked on many classic OMD and Factory Records (New Order) album sleeves. The vinyl sleeve fea- tures a special die-cut opening, highlighting the inner sleeve. It’s a nod to their past, whilst embracing the future. Future retro, modern classic.
Frankie Rose Cage Tropical (Slumberland Records)
I’m not sure how the alluring brilliance of Ms. Rose has bypassed me for as long as it has. No matter, because I have finally succumbed. Now my ears, heart, and wallet remain eter- nally open. As yours should be too! This is surely a contender for album of the year. I love the mish-mash of styles going on. It has a big production feel, with many ‘80s sounds, such as sweeping synth-washes, chorus and reverb guitars, and heavily processed drums. Of course, the icing on the cake is the delightful vocal performances. But despite the ambi- tious production, the confessional manner of the songs ensures Cage Tropical retains a very genuine DIY feel. It’s a curious combination that works fantastically well.
Frankie Rose has been a cherished luminary among the independent music underground of Brooklyn and has contributed to a plethora of musical projects including stints in Dum Dum Girls, Crystal Stilts, Beverly and Vivian Girls. For this new album, her third solo full- length, Ms. Rose relocated to her familial home of Los Angeles for a year and a half with the intention of starting a new chapter of her musical legacy. The resulting episode met with mixed personal results. “I moved to LA, drama ensued and I ended up on a catering truck. I was like, how can this be my life after being a touring musician and living off of music. I had really lost my way and I thought I was totally done.”
Which explains much of the restlessness and gentle unease seeping into the fabric of many of these songs. It’s not apparent given a casual perusal, but if you spend some time with this LP, you will realize the atmospherics that surrounds the album takes on an ethereal and otherworldly feeling. It somehow reminds me of the feeling of being driven to exhaus- tion, or fuzzy sleep-deprived delirium. It’s not unpleasant. I mention this purely to highlight that I don’t think this a typical indie record by any means. It sparkles within its own self- contained darkness.
There are ten songs on this album, and all of them could be singles. It starts off strong and never dips in terms of ambition and quality. Album opener “Love In Rockets” sets a gentle gait persistent throughout the LP, but is brilliantly arranged to grab your attention from the first note of the tropical-esque guitar intro. I’m not sure if Ms. Rose would object to the comparison, given her indie-pop pedigree, but the crashing drums, production values, and space within the arrangement remind me of Hounds of Love era Kate Bush (which is intended as a compliment). “Dyson Sphere” and “Trouble” are more driving and pop orien- tated, but it is the melancholy splendor of tracks such as “Cage Tropical” and “Decontrol” where I feel Ms. Rose has hit upon a unique formula. The track “Red Museum” is a song I can, and have listened to over and over. You should buy this album on the strength of this alone. Despite downer lyrics (“Everything you know is a lie / Everything falls apart”), the combination of sounds is so delicious, and the space provided in the arrangement that al- lows Frankie’s voice to shine is sublime. I’m not sure where you go after writing a masterful album like Cage Tropical but I look forward to future splendor from Frankie Rose.
frankierose.bandcamp.com/album/cage-tropical
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