The common perception of anything bracketed as electronica is that you can dance to it. But while there are beats aplenty decorating the 16 tracks of this expanded re-issue of Metronomy’s debut album, you’ll need the lithe limbs of a contortionist to fully physically engage with the arrangements on offer.
The squelchy, fuzzy thuds of opener You Could Easily Have Me come on like the mangling of a 1970s glam-rock stomper and the Dr Who sound effects department, overseen by both Kraftwerk and dawn-of-disco Frenchmen Space. It’s a calling-card number, a firm fan favourite – but its accessibility, relative to what follows, is misleading. Pip Paine’s eccentric compositions rarely sit still long enough to settle into any groove; it’s an album that frustrates as often as it rewards, its fidgety tendencies sometimes spoiling what could be addictive little numbers.
Love Song For Dog – stabs of percussion fractured by design, brass dominating the high end – is along the lines of what you imagine Four Tet producing if Kieran Hebden had the wonky beats of the Ninja Tune catalogue somehow played to him in the womb. This Could Be Beautiful (It Is) chimes delightfully but ultimately leads nowhere, Trick or Treatz dismantles Hot Chip and reassembles the constituent pieces all back to front, and Bearcan clangs with enthusiasm but seemingly little direction.
Ultimately, Pip Paine is a showcase for main man Joseph Mount’s imagination over accomplished execution – the ideas on show would be better realised on the following Nights Out album, the recipient of a great deal of critical acclaim. While enjoyably disparate of component design, this record’s lack of any coherency does rather counter the playfulness evident when the listener really focuses. Closer New Toy, for example, is little more than background hum over a standard home stereo, but through decent headphones its washes of woozily eerie keyboard become quite beguiling.
Four bonus tracks add value to this release. Best among them is Hear to Wear (a b side to the Radio Ladio single), an insistent bleep frenzy that’s half Chopsticks, half krautrock. It – like much of Metronomy’s material – is baffling, the work of outsiders banging repeatedly on the door of success but, as yet, only being rewarded with keyhole glimpses of what could be.
Presumably because, try as you might, dancing to this stuff almost always ends in tears – both of laughter and born of a twisted ankle.
Previously a nu-rave trio in the mould ofKlaxons,Metronomy, the brainchild ofJoseph Mount, have changed tack for their third studio album,The English Riviera, following the departure of original memberGabriel Stebbingthree years earlier. Having permanently recruited the talents of bassistGbenga Adelekanand formerLightspeed Championdrummer Anna Prior, the follow-up to 2008'sNights Out, abandons their indie-disco sensibilities in favor of a more laid-back but equally idiosyncratic, sun-kissed sound which positions them as avant-garde purveyors in the vein ofSaint Etiennerather than debauched glowstick wavers. But while its opening number, a 37-second snatch of cowing seagulls and distant waves lapping against the shore, may evoke the glamorous beaches of California, its remaining self-produced ten tracks are very much a love letter to both Mount's hometown of Totnes in Devon, and a romantic fantasy of the title's seaside resort he used to drive around in, blastingAce of Baseas a youth. While thankfully there aren't any attempts at European faux-reggae, there are nods to the rich and warm West Coast sounds of '70sFleetwood Macandthe Eagleson the swaying, country-tinged "Trouble" and the ominous, fretless, bass-led "She Wants." But ultimately, as the title implies, the band's third album is unmistakably an English affair, and none more so than "Some Written," which kicks off with a shuffling end-of-the-pier waltz rhythm and the kind of old-fashioned Wurlitzer last heard in wartime ballrooms, before ending in a cavalcade of stylophones, cymbals, and even kazoos that sounds like a particularly clumsy one-man-band falling down the stairs. It's utterly bonkers, but fits right in when placed among the likes of "The Look," which borrows the hook fromPerez Prado's "Guaglione" and fuses it with summeryBeach Boysharmonies and archaic video game style synths, the lollopingSerge Gainsbourg-esque jazz-rock, and psychedelic guitar solos of "We Broke Free" and "Everything Goes My Way," a gorgeous '60s-inspired slice of cooing lounge-funk featuring the deadpan vocals ofVeronica Falls'Roxanne Clifford. The band occasionally revert back to their more familiar electronic roots, such as on the ambient,Orbital-esque "Loving Arm," and the woozy synth wizardry of closing number "Love Underlined," but as sonically interesting as they are, they feel like slightly jarring interruptions to the album's underlying vaudeville nature. Relentless in its pursuit to soundtrack the uniqueness of the British summer,The English Rivierais a challenging but ultimately rewarding effort which cementsMount's reputation as one of Britain's most intriguing pop mavericks.
.jpg)
The common perception of anything bracketed as electronica is that you can dance to it. But while there are beats aplenty decorating the 16 tracks of this expanded re-issue of Metronomy’s debut album, you’ll need the lithe limbs of a contortionist to fully physically engage with the arrangements on offer.
