kleph
14-02-2006, 02:01 PM
An album every bit as important today as when it came out in 1989.
As Matt Johnson looked behind him at Thatcher-era England he was troubled by what he saw. Sharpened by personal crisis he instinctively felt the dangers that were facing the modern world. What made him different from so many others was that he wasn't casting blame, he was issuing warnings about the future he saw to be inevitable.
To do this, Johnson discarded the pseudo-pop trappings of his earlier work and created a singular artistic vision. Bringing on ex-Smith's axeman, Johnny Marr, brought the level of the musicianship up to the level of the songwriting. There is a strong consistency to the songwriting and music that gives the work a powerful punch, and makes its message strike all that much deeper.
And Johnson clearly has a message to get across. As you take it in it's best to follow the man's advice with this one - "Please play very loud, very late, very alone, and with the lights turned very low."
As the Iron Curtain fell and the Cold War ended, there was as feeling of optimism that carried an unrealistic idealism with it. But just because the battle lines of one conflict had ended did not mean there weren't other, critically important, battle lines out there.
Without the political differences represented by the cold war the next great chasm to be faced was religion. He opened the record with the sound of Muezzin calling Muslims out to prayer and then proceeded to lay bare the hidden horrors we visit on ourselves in the name of God.
It is a series of songs that were hauntingly prescient.
In the wake of September 11, it can be difficult to divorce the pressing horror of the conflict at hand with the underlying crisis it illustrates. But Johnson, despite his clearly evident anger, doesn't miss either point. The loss of lives is as horrible as the loss of spirituality in the world. As he sings in the harrowing "Armageddon days:"
Islam is rising
The Christians mobilizing
The world is on its elbows and knees
It's forgotten the message and worships the creeds
But the battle lines of spirituality and the conflicts between religions is only the first item on the agenda, Johnson is also very concerned with the loss of intimacy between people in the increasingly disaffected world.
What is the place in the world for sensuality when all we see is pornography? What is the point of commiseration when we only feel sorry for ourselves? Where is pathos when all we have left is irony? How can we give ourselves to another when we are blinded to who we are in the first place?
Johnson asks these questions by laying himself and his relationships bare in songs like "August and September" but, unlike the first theme which he can only voice, the record offers an affirmation in the glorious "Gravitate to Me." Co-written with Marr, the song moves in a slow funky rhythm as the guitars float ecstatically around. It is a mesmerizing synthesis of belief, hope and a certain transcendentalism that rises above the crude meanness described before.
Because in the end, the only way to breach the chasms Johnson is describing is not through understanding, or knowledge, or experience. It is through faith, and that usually requires a leap into the dark.
As Matt Johnson looked behind him at Thatcher-era England he was troubled by what he saw. Sharpened by personal crisis he instinctively felt the dangers that were facing the modern world. What made him different from so many others was that he wasn't casting blame, he was issuing warnings about the future he saw to be inevitable.
To do this, Johnson discarded the pseudo-pop trappings of his earlier work and created a singular artistic vision. Bringing on ex-Smith's axeman, Johnny Marr, brought the level of the musicianship up to the level of the songwriting. There is a strong consistency to the songwriting and music that gives the work a powerful punch, and makes its message strike all that much deeper.
And Johnson clearly has a message to get across. As you take it in it's best to follow the man's advice with this one - "Please play very loud, very late, very alone, and with the lights turned very low."
As the Iron Curtain fell and the Cold War ended, there was as feeling of optimism that carried an unrealistic idealism with it. But just because the battle lines of one conflict had ended did not mean there weren't other, critically important, battle lines out there.
Without the political differences represented by the cold war the next great chasm to be faced was religion. He opened the record with the sound of Muezzin calling Muslims out to prayer and then proceeded to lay bare the hidden horrors we visit on ourselves in the name of God.
It is a series of songs that were hauntingly prescient.
In the wake of September 11, it can be difficult to divorce the pressing horror of the conflict at hand with the underlying crisis it illustrates. But Johnson, despite his clearly evident anger, doesn't miss either point. The loss of lives is as horrible as the loss of spirituality in the world. As he sings in the harrowing "Armageddon days:"
Islam is rising
The Christians mobilizing
The world is on its elbows and knees
It's forgotten the message and worships the creeds
But the battle lines of spirituality and the conflicts between religions is only the first item on the agenda, Johnson is also very concerned with the loss of intimacy between people in the increasingly disaffected world.
What is the place in the world for sensuality when all we see is pornography? What is the point of commiseration when we only feel sorry for ourselves? Where is pathos when all we have left is irony? How can we give ourselves to another when we are blinded to who we are in the first place?
Johnson asks these questions by laying himself and his relationships bare in songs like "August and September" but, unlike the first theme which he can only voice, the record offers an affirmation in the glorious "Gravitate to Me." Co-written with Marr, the song moves in a slow funky rhythm as the guitars float ecstatically around. It is a mesmerizing synthesis of belief, hope and a certain transcendentalism that rises above the crude meanness described before.
Because in the end, the only way to breach the chasms Johnson is describing is not through understanding, or knowledge, or experience. It is through faith, and that usually requires a leap into the dark.