Musical Comebacks: The Good, The Bad, and The (Very) Ugly

Musical Comebacks: The Good, The Bad, and The (Very) Ugly

Reunion albums are often quite a divisive concept it seems. Sure, on paper it sounds great: a band you loved, perhaps from your childhood, have risen back from the dead, with the promise of brand new, original material. Hooray! What’s not to love? Well, the only snag is that in a lot of cases, these albums come from incredibly well established groups, who, upon putting new stuff out into the world, perhaps don’t realise that, no matter how hard they try, the new material will undoubtedly be scrutinised in comparison to their often legendary back catalogues, and fairly often, seem to come up short. Prime recent example would perhaps be The Beatles’ ‘Now and Then’, which, while being about as hyped up as the second coming, and seeming to be generally well received by the public, certainly doesn’t land very high in critical circles at all, with NME putting it at #153 of all 188 existing Beatles songs. That said, some of their other placements, particularly of tracks from ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ are outright criminal, but I digress. So it doesn’t entirely surprise me that the reaction of vast swathes of music fans to the announcement of reunion albums seems to be one of equal anticipation and scepticism. The question on my mind though is: is that always warranted? For sure there are some REALLY naff ones out there, but to me it seems a shame that those few infamous failures seem to have somewhat tainted the whole idea of reunion albums for the rest of time, when, in actuality, they can be good, or bad, or terrible, or fantastic, for a whole slew of different reasons. So join me, as with a list of examples as long as my arm, I give you a few of the good, the bad, and indeed the “meh”, of reunion albums…

The Bad

The Stooges - The Weirdness (2007)

Let’s be honest, any Stooges fan reading this knew this was coming, so I thought I may as well get the obvious out of the way first. It really is a shame, because Iggy’s 2000s reunion with the Asheton brothers had already shown great potential, the four tracks the trio put down for Pop’s 2003 solo album ‘Skull Ring’ in my opinion being pretty damn good, so just what went wrong here? I want to like this album, I really do, especially given it’s the last studio appearance of guitar titan Ron Asheton, but I just can’t. To start with a relatively minor issue, the production on this album is pretty lacklustre. You’d think having Steve Albini on board for an album like this would be a recipe for success, but he seriously screwed the pooch on this one. Ron’s guitars, that should have that fiery, uncontrollable, gnarly sound, just sound quite bland and sanitised, and too smooth, like a pitbull having its teeth removed. Scott’s drums arguably suffer even worse, somehow having very little punch while sounding blown out at the same time, only sounding a few shades away from the noises of exploding crisp packets at some points. I did hear things about a rushed mastering process resulting in a less than desirable sound, but to put it all down to that feels very generous. 

Really though, the main problem with this album is a fairly simple one: the songwriting is just pretty weak. You do get some decent riffs and grooves here or there, like on ‘ATM’ or ‘I’m Fried’, but mostly the tracks just feel like such a pale imitation of what made them so great, with tracks like ‘Greedy Awful People’ sounding like a pastiche of the kind of cheesy rock n roll they were rebelling against in the first place. It seems so odd, but genuinely the best tracks in my opinion are the two ballads they offer up. That’s not even mentioning Iggy, whose consistently nasil vocal tone and attempts at sounding “cool”, turn tracks that might be decent just slightly irritating, and I know he was never Shakespeare, that was never the point, but there really are some new lows here, whether it’s telling us that “[his] dick is turning into a tree”, or that he doesn’t like England or France because of their naff beer and stinky cheese. Like, c’mon man… There isn’t much a sadder irony than a group of punk pioneers reduced to sounding like a cut rate, throwback garage rock band. I hate to say it, but there we are.

The Slits - Trapped Animal (2009)

I’ll be honest, this one’s genuinely just a bit of a sad one. Under the leadership of singer Ari Up and bassist Tessa Pollit, the reformed Slits began touring in 2009, and released this four years later, barely twelve months before Ari’s untimely death. In the past, The Slits sound had been characterised by a distinctive meld of punk, rock, reggae, and world music that served them very well. However, it seemed on this new album, they were set on modernising, in itself not a bad idea, but my god it has some less than desirable results. From the sounds of the cheap electronic drums on the first three tracks, I wouldn’t blame people for thinking they’d accidentally put the wrong CD on by accident. That can sum up a lot of this album honestly, the whole time I listened to it initially, I was just in a constant state of confusion. When the main single from your album is a budget reggae-pop track like ‘Lazy Slam’, something’s very wrong, for any band, let alone The Slits. The bewildering ideas don’t stop at track three though. Their attempts to recapture their love for world music on tracks like ‘Peer Pressure’ or ‘Reggae Gypsy’ damn near border on parody in their cheesiness, and I’m still not entirely sure what the last track is even supposed to be doing. Beyond that, the couple of attempts at a more “rock centric” sound on tracks like ‘Rejects’ or the title track, similarly to the Stooges, are pretty toothless, nowhere near as exhilarating, and sometimes even slightly tacky, like with the synth strings on the latter track. It can feel like they're desperately trying to convince us that they’re just as crazy as they’ve always been, to the point they almost end up a parody of themselves.

The rest of the album is mostly dedicated to more straight up reggae tracks, some of which are admittedly decent enough with their deep, dubby production, but given the name associated, I expected a lot more than just some half-decent reggae with a kooky frontwoman. On that topic, even Ari as a vocal presence isn’t always reliable. She can definitely conjure up a zany, characterful performance when she wants to, and does pretty alright with such occasionally, offering up some pretty good melodies at points too, but perhaps due to her age or whatever factors may have been at play, what in some cases seems distinctive and enjoyably over-the-top, can sometimes verge into being quite overexaggerated and slightly annoying. Again, it reeks of a desperation to try and recapture the genuine madcap appeal of the old Slits, but just trying WAY too hard. Hell, the best track on here, ‘Cry Baby’, doesn’t even have Ari on it, instead being fronted by Hollie Cook, and everything about the sound of it indicates it might as well just be a Hollie Cook song, rather than be anywhere near a Slits record. In my opinion, The Slits were a band that thrived under pressure, producing some great music as a result. The problem with this record? Simply put, there is no pressure, so you essentially end up with a mix of what sounds like quite forced, sometimes confusing attempts at rekindling and modernisation, with a few decentish reggae tracks spotted here or there along the way. Maybe a touch harsh, but this really was a letdown.

Pink Floyd - The Endless River (2014)

I can already see a couple of people perhaps furrowing their brows at this. “What? Pink Floyd? Surely it can’t be THAT bad, right?” Well, no, but yes, but no, but yes, I’ll explain. So, Pink Floyd are arguably one of the best loved bands of all time, reshaping the landscape of rock music, particularly throughout the 70s and early 80s with albums like ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, Wish You Were Here’, ‘Animals’ and ‘The Wall’, and while some may shrug off a lot of their post-Waters material, there is definitely some good stuff should you go looking, all the way up to ‘The Division Bell’ in 1994. However, following Rick Wright’s passing in 2001, many probably assumed that was it, that was until this album came along. David Gilmour, along with drummer Nick Mason, took some of the leftover ideas from the ‘Division Bell’ sessions, and reworked and reconstituted them into this album, and to put it politely, for the vast majority, it really sounds like it. It might not be as straightforwardly bad or confusing as ‘The Weirdness’ or ‘Trapped Animal’, but it does sound very lazy. When The Floyd aren’t using Wright’s contributions as an excuse to pointlessly noodle in circles on guitar for minutes at a time, it almost sounds like they’re playing at being themselves. The slightly more straight “prog rock” pieces like ‘It’s What We Do’ or ‘Anisina’ do have a bit more going on, thanks in large part to Nick Mason’s drumming, but they certainly aren’t anything special, with tracks like ‘On Noodle Street’ basically just being glorified muzak. Sure, a few of the MANY atmospheric pieces on the album sound quite pretty or spacey, but I expect a lot more from a Pink Floyd comeback/tribute album than “some vaguely pretty and/or fine music, sometimes.”

What truly sets this album apart for me though, is that there are albums from many veteran rock acts that are almost uninventive to a fault, see The Rolling Stones’ newest album, but very few, even if inadvertently, border on disrespect. Surely a player with the calibre of Wright is worthy of a better tribute than a patchwork frankenstein monster of 20-year-old keyboard parts and soundcheck recordings, just as the fans deserve better than a patchwork frankenstein monster of 20-year-old keyboard parts and soundcheck recordings. Some of the other pieces like ‘Allons-y’ might have a decent bit of fire in their belly, or again, some of the music on this album might be quite “nice”, but it’s too little too late. You’ve got maybe 10 minutes of good music accompanied by 40-or-so minutes of wallpaper. In a way it is a bit like an endless river, an endless, placid, pillowy, river. It seems like even in their own promotion they were finding it difficult to hype this up. I don’t know about you, but David Gilmour telling me that, “quite a bit of it is the three of us improvising something [or] half written ideas [...] A lot of those moments are so lovely as they are”, isn’t really that convincing. It’s sad because the essential closing track, and arguably the only “proper song”, on the record, ‘Louder Than Words’, is actually quite good, so if they just “did a Queen” and released that as a standalone single, I wouldn’t really have much to complain about. Unfortunately though, it seems self-indulgence got in their way.

Faithless - All Blessed (2020)

As much as the huge gulf in popularity between their big singles and everything else, I truly believe Faithless are an albums band. The hits like ‘Insomnia’ are great of course, but dig deeper and you’re sure to find some great stuff. So, the idea of a new album in 2020 was a possibility I initially embraced with open arms. However, the glaring absence of lead vocalist Maxi Jazz, packaged with some apparently rather defensive radio interviews saying he didn’t define faithless didn’t inspire tons of confidence, and upon arrival, the reason for being so defensive seemed quite clear: the album, in short, wasn’t very good. Now I’m not saying Maxi would’ve had a direct musical impact, after all to my knowledge he rarely did, but it just seems like when left to their own devices, Blissy and Rollo just don’t really know what to do with themselves. Now, there are admittedly a couple spots where glimpses of that anthemic magic shine through bright as ever, like with ‘Synthesiser’ featuring Nathan Ball, or the title track particularly, but most of the rest of it aside from that just feels quite… dull, for lack of a better word. There’s not honesty much about it that sets itself apart from any other bog standard EDM album, the melodies aren’t nearly as interesting as on previous releases, there are at least a handful of loops that I could swear are lifted straight from the stock Apple Loops library, and the beats, ironically for a dance album, aren’t very danceable, and mostly just sound quite stilted and lifeless.

The problems don’t end with the dance tracks though, as the attempts at more experimental or laidback sounds they often tinker with on the deep cuts seem even more ill-fated, with most of them like the atmospheric reggae on ‘My Town’ or the lullaby-esque closing track just bore me to death. That said, I can give ‘Walk in my Shoes’ credit for being quite a nice, inspirational little ballad, but one pretty moment does not a good album make. Then of course, the issue also arises: what do they do for vocals? Of course they’ve worked with many different people, not just Maxi, so surely if they got the right combination of features they should be golden? Well the problem is, they don’t. Having the same vocalist (who I presume is a quasi replacement for Maxi) appear on 5 out of 12 tracks, one of which is just the same word looped over and over, without nearly as much charisma or vocal presence, and a lot of the others coming across so uninteresting you barely even notice them. Yes, you do get a couple decent ones, particularly Nathan Ball, but they’re few and far between. Even a reappearance from ‘No Roots’ guests L.S.K. isn’t anything special. Not to mention that a lot of the lyrics on the album seem to want to follow Maxi’s footsteps in terms of philosophical and political subject matter, but attempts at being “deep” just come across way too hamfisted and fall quite flat. All this is just symptomatic of the album’s overarching problem: it just feels pointless. It feels bland, rushed, cobbled together, slightly careless, and so obviously suffers for it. Of all the albums here, this and the Pink Floyd album are perhaps the best examples of albums that just didn’t need to be made. Perhaps not quite as severely as the previous example, but it certainly pales in comparison to the rest of their catalogue.

The Meh/The Decent

Happy Mondays - Uncle Dysfunktional (2007)

There was a point in time where the emergence of new Happy Mondays material seemed like a pipe dream. The band had already imploded following the naff, Caribbean inspired ‘Yes Please!...’ in 1992, and their short-lived 1999 reformation, along with singer Shaun Ryder’s drug problem and subsequent legal troubles didn’t inspire confidence. However, fairly consistent touring throughout 2005-2006, and the release of new track ‘Playground Superstar’ in 2006, reinvigorated fans’ hopes, and eventually in July 2007, ‘Uncle Dysfunktional finally saw the light of day. Some may have been perturbed by the fact that over half of the original lineup was missing, with only Ryder, best mate Bez and drummer Gaz Whelan remaining, but despite that, in my opinion, they still managed to crank out a pretty damn solid album. In my mind, it almost picks up where ‘Pills N Thrills…’ left off. Where that was a bright, balearic, hedonistic lads’ holiday, this album is more a druggy, wild, gritty, slightly unhinged stag do. It may have been 17 years, but the core tenets of their sound are all still here: the grooving, baggy drums, the blaring yet catchy guitars, the colourful keyboards and mad samples, and of course, Shaun’s lyrics and vocals. Many people might see them as rambled, blunt, nonsensical, juvenile, wry, often coarse and graphic, but that’s kind of the point, and for the most part, they do their job very well. So it’s safe to say that when these elements come together at their strongest, you get some pretty damn strong tracks, like the riotous ‘Angels and Whores’, the slightly sun soaked and groovy ‘In the Blood’, the subtly Motown influenced title track, or the laid back bliss of ‘Dr. Dick.’ Perhaps the best track on this album though is the opener ‘Jellybean’, whose stadium sized grooves and anthemic riffs see them come the closest to recapturing their former Pills-era brilliance. The band also takes time to experiment a fair bit on this album, and a couple actually come out surprisingly well, in particular the sinister, string-tinged rap rock on ‘Rats With Wings.’

The album certainly isn’t perfect though, not by a long shot. Firstly, while Ryder definitely has his share of stand out moments, there are also a number of times on various tracks where, maybe due to age, he just doesn’t sound very interested in being there, his sometimes slurred or monotone delivery a far cry from the sharp, infectious hollering on their classic material. Not to mention that as much as I’m alright letting him off for the most part, some of his lyrics are just silly, like saying he’s “shangalanging at yer bedroom window”, “feeling like a coconut tree” or asking “who cut the cheese?” Beyond that, I can’t help but feel like a few of the musical ideas may have been better left on the cutting room floor too. The Debbie Harry cover ‘Rush Rush’ is fine but ultimately unnecessary, ‘Cuntry Disco’, as charming as bits of it might be, ultimately feels a little too all over the place, the attempt at a quasi-ballad on ‘Somebody Else’s Weather’ is just quite dull, and botched experiments like the electro-bhangra on ‘Anti Warhole…’, or the pretty head on attempt at mid-2000s “swag-rap” on ‘Deviantz’ with Mickey Avalon still befuddle me even now. On the whole though, despite the rag-tag lineup, with the help of producer Sunny Levine, Shaun and the gang put forward a pretty damn solid effort here, one that, despite its flaws, is, sadly, greatly overlooked. Shaun said relatively recently that he thought the album was “miles better” than ‘Yes Please!...’, and I agree. Well, that is until Sunny proceeded to bugger up the mix on all subsequent re-releases, but I refuse to talk about that again.

Guns N’ Roses - Chinese Democracy (2008)

You knew I couldn’t do an article like this and not bring this up at some point. A few of you might be scratching your heads at its placement, after all, one look at Wikipedia shows general reception was positive enough, but after listening to it myself, it’s quite lucky it ended up here. It’s not quite as bad as ‘The Weirdness’ or ‘All Blessed’, but I’m hard pressed to say I enjoyed it as such. The biggest praise I can probably give this album is that a lot of the guest musicians really show up and do some great work here, the guitars from Bumblefoot and Buckethead are particularly nice, as they do give a fair few tracks here that spark of energy that definitely helps them along, and some of the grooves laid down by Josh Freeze or ex-Primus’ Brain are decent enough. As well as that, I can give credit to a couple of songs for really committing to the vibe they’re shooting for, and more or less getting there. The title track or ‘Riad N’ The Bedouins’ do harken back sonically to the ‘Appetite For Destruction’ days, offering up those catchy, bop-along riffs, with the latter working in a few more funk or Western inspired leads, steady, pounding beats, a pretty cool, catchy chorus, at least in the former’s case, and of course a few wicked and fiery guitar solos too. In addition, I do think the track ‘There Was a Time’ is maybe the best example of the album’s big-budget, world spanning sonic approach coming off quite well. The blends of trip-hop, world music, orchestral music and hard rock aren’t exactly seamless, but the track does have quite a cool, progressive feel to it, some really cool guitar solos and group vocal parts, nice strings, multiple cohesive segues and sections. Parts of it do genuinely feel quite epic, so it’s certainly not all bad.

Otherwise, there’s no kinder way to say it, this album is a fucking mess. Essentially how I would describe it is 70 minutes of Axl Rose and a festival’s worth of session musicians acting on every single possible idea they have and putting it all on one album. In the right hands, that approach can absolutely be successful (more on that later), but here it just feels so discombobulating, a sensation the run time doesn’t help with. I know I shouldn’t put restrictions on what bands can or can’t do, but so many of the tracks here just feel wrong coming from GNR, uncanny even. The multiple flirtations with trip-hop on tracks like ‘If The World’ or ‘Madagascar’, the industrial, slasher, disco-isms on ‘Shackler’s Revenge’, or the acapella intro and quasi nu-metal on ‘Scraped’, so many of the ideas attempted here leave me scratching my head going “what the hell were they thinking?” Axl’s attempts at coalescing so many things is like splatting 50 different garish colours on a canvas, you might get the occasional cool result, but so much of it is just an incomprehensible splat. Furthermore, there are so many tracks here that, save the decent guitar solos or the implementation of strings for added “drama”, just sound pretty generic and stale. The grooves and riffs on tracks like ‘Better’ or ‘I.R.S.’ don’t offer a great deal, aside from a psychy Sabbath vibe, ‘Sorry’ is much the same, and as for tracks like ‘Street Of Dreams’ or 'This I Love’, talk about generic melodrama. How this album cost $13m I’ll never know, Then there’s Axl. Jesus Christ. I’ve never been a fan of that raspy, yelpy vocal style, but here it’s consistently unbearable. Not to mention his attempts at more melodic tracks are completely laughable. Whether there’s anything interesting lyrically I don’t care, because hearing 70 minutes of his voice was actually just straight up painful, nails on a chalkboard would be kind. This is a vanity project in essence, a man doing literally whatever idea comes to his head, regardless of quality. A broken clock can be right twice a day, and good lord the guitars are a help, but it’s a lesson that all the money and resources in the world can’t mask a naff album. 

Primus - Green Naugahyde (2011)

Throughout their 90s run, bass prodigy Les Claypool and Co. produced some of the most innovative, technically proficient, funky and brilliantly insane metal music I’ve ever heard, with every single initial album being at least pretty damn good, and often much more (yes, even ‘Antipop’). Then, eight years after a very short lived 2003 reformation, Les and guitarist Larry LaLonde, along with drummer Jay Lane, brought out ‘Green Naugahyde.’ Musically, many of the hallmarks of great, classic era Primus stuff are here on prominent display: some great, tight snappy drums and very nice intricate percussion work from Jay, Larry’s guitars as usual fluctuate between colourful and psychedelic to being razor sharp and noisy with some damn good solos too, cutting through like a samurai sword amongst the madness. Of course, Les Claypool being an absolute bass god helps to, with some incredibly skillful runs, wonderfully zany, squelchy effects and lest we forget, riffs that are just funky as fuck. Though Primus plays around with a number of different formats here, the talent and awesomeness is rarely ever diluted. Whether it’s faster tracks like ‘Hennepin Crawler’, ‘Hoinfodaman’ or ‘Extinction Burst’ with their madcap circus carnival vibes and infectious esoterica brought on by tight grooves, bright guitars and whirring effects, or tracks like ‘Last Salmon Man’, ‘Tragedy’s A’ Comin’’, or ‘Lee Van Cleef’ that instead choose to slow things down a bit, reaching levels of offbeat funkiness that is the envy of rhythm sections everywhere. There are also songs such as ‘Eyes Of The Squirrel’, ‘Jilly’s On Smack’, or arguably ‘Moron TV’ that go for a slightly darker, sinister, or more uneasy vibe that make for a very nice change of pace. Also, as tracks like ‘Eternal Combustion Engine’ remind us, the album is obviously imbued with that sense of unique, slightly campy and eccentric sense of charm and humour that make Primus so enjoyable, made all the more obvious by Les Claypool. His vocals are theatrical, characterful, zany, endlessly quirky and odd in the best way, perfectly complementing his dadaist, acid trip, Beefheart inspired lyrics, making this whole album feel the product of an alternate dimension where all regular sense and normality is thrown out the window, and that is of course a compliment.

Given all the praise I’ve heaped on this album so far then, how come it’s only in the “meh/decent” section? That can’t be right. Well I would agree, except there’s one key criticism i’ve neglected to mention up to this point that definitely takes it down in my estimation: it just isn’t very heavy. This might seem like a weird criticism initially, after all, they were never exactly Cannibal Corpse, but here me out. What appealed to me about Primus is that yes, you had the fantastic basslines and the intricate beats, the sharp guitars and colourful lyrics, the humour and so on, but then they’d also take it that extra level by putting all of that on top of riffs and grooves that, looking back on it, could be pretty goddamn gnarly and dark and headbanging, and yet somehow make that all work together. Just look at prior tracks like ‘Too Many Puppies’, ‘My Name Is Mud’ or ‘Lacquer Head’ and you’ll see what I mean. Where that leaves this album then is quite strange. The musicianship and vibes and general appeal is all there, but something just feels like it’s missing, almost like it’s flat and deflated. You get pretty much all the madness, the zaniness, the humour, the colour, the funk, but some of the groove, and most importantly, the heft, is just very lacking here. Moments on ‘Jilly’s On Smack’, ‘Tragedy’s A’ Comin’’  or ‘Extinction Burst’ I feel like try to reach for that, but just can’t quite get there. It feels like a shell of what it could be, it’s sad to say. It just doesn’t have that electricity, that je ne sais quoi that made them so special. You do get a pretty good, esoteric, mad funk rock album at the end of the day, but as good as that might sound, Primus fans know there’s so much more to them beyond that.

Leftfield - Alternative Light Source (2015)

With the release of their legendary debut ‘Leftism’ in 1995, Leftfield were seen to pioneer a whole new sound, one that we now know as progressive house, one of the best loved and most popular forms of dance music. The album was nothing short of paradigm-defining, and the follow-up, 1999’s ‘Rhythm and Stealth’ was pretty well received too. However, a legal battle with their label led to their split in 2002. Once resolved though, 13 years later, details of their brand new album ‘Alternative Light Source' were unveiled. It’s fair to say this album starts off pretty damn strong indeed. Lead single ‘Universal Everything’ seems to pick up right where the duo left off, offering up a track that is incredibly psychedelic, spacy and mesmerising, while also being, to use a phrase, an absolute thumper at the exact same time. ‘Bilocation’ feels like an attempt at the classic uplifting vocal house track, but of course with their own distinct flair, coming fit with a litany of bitcrushed keys, cascading synths and shuffling beats, not to mention a great, soaring performance from Channy Leaneagh. ‘Head and Shoulders’ with post-punkers Sleaford Mods is the centrepiece for me though, as the marriage of gritty beats and bass with otherworldly, woozy, dramatic keyboards works an absolute treat. Add to that Jason Williamson giving perhaps one of his best performances ever, and it couldn’t not fail. The highlights don’t end there though, as shortly into the second half we get the track ‘Big Fish’, whose utterly relentless modulating basslines, thumping drums and gargantuan walls of synths could bring the roof off even the most rowdy of warehouse parties. It may have been 17 years, but the guys can still put together a mean track. A really mean track.

Unfortunately, elsewhere it seems as though the duo start dragging their feet a little bit, leaving the rest of the album to feel a little disjointed, and of quite drastic variance in quality. The beats, and even a handful of the melodic ideas on tracks like ‘Bad Radio’ or ‘Shaker Obsession’ are fairly solid, but they seem to suffer from “take a solid beat and put an incessant, noisy or annoying noise on top” syndrome that ‘Big Fish’ was thankfully able to sidestep, leading the enjoyability of particularly the latter example to plummet beyond the two-minute mark. As for the other tracks, from ‘Head and Shoulders’ onwards, it’s like the album completely loses its identity, and the experiments it embarks on often don’t pan out too well. ‘Dark Matters’ does have some nice cinematic synths and decent beats, but ultimately just feels quite meandering and a tad dull, as is the case for ‘Storm’s End’, whose attempt at cinematic trap, aside from some admittedly quite epic synth patches, just doesn’t do much for me in terms of sound, on top of it sounding a bit claustrophobic and needlessly noisy at points. Then there’s the closer and title track, whose respective sounds are equally confusing: the former just sounds like a build up to a drop that never happens with an odd Michael Jackson sample, while having the latter be a kind of sort of drumless reprise/remix of ‘Head and Shoulders’ seems like a seriously wasted opportunity. So, there are doubtlessly highlights on here that show the guys clearly have tons of talent, it’s just a shame that half of the album is writing a cheque the other half just can’t seem to cache, and given the far from stellar quality of the follow up, ‘This Is What We Do’ in 2022, it seems more like a bullet dodge in hindsight rather than a fluke.

TOOL - Fear Inoculum (2019)

Full disclosure, I hadn’t listened to TOOL at all before listening to this album. I was certainly aware of their status as one of the greats of progressive metal, as well as all the memes about how long this album took to come out. What I will say then, after listening to this as well as a number of their greatest hits, is that this maybe wasn’t the best place to start. There is absolutely good stuff on this album though, I must stress, particularly in the second half. The track ‘Descending’ has a really cool atmospheric guitar intro, some great, intricate drum and percussion work throughout, multiple genuinely impressive, flashy guitar solos, some decent psychedelic synth splashes, a few really nice, dramatic crescendo points, and some pretty gnarly riffs too, particularly at the track’s climax. In fact one of the main things I can praise this record for is its ability to build to some pretty wicked climaxes with great heavy guitars, like on ‘Pneuma’, ‘Invincible’, or particularly ‘Culling Voices’, which not only has pretty epic riffs in its second half, but also some rather nice atmospheric passages throughout it too. Furthermore, I think the track ‘7empest’ probably makes the best case of all the tracks having the runtime it does. Rarely is there a dull moment, from the alluring melodies in the intro leading straight into super thrashy guitars, giving way to multiple very commendable solos and some brilliant drum fills, of course underscored by multiple great groove and speed changes too. It really feels like a journey. On the subject of drums also, it has to be said, the skill in the soloing presented by Danny Carey on ‘Chocolate Chip Trip’ is genuinely mind boggling.

All sounds pretty positive so far right? Well, sort of, but I’ve yet to discuss my biggest gripe with the record, which unfortunately overshadows a fair bit of it. It might sound odd but hear me out: I think TOOL went for what they were going for almost a bit too hard. What I mean is, you can tell pretty much off the rip that they wanted to go for this really big, grand, dramatic, progressive album with some very prominent world music influences, all cool in concept, but the problem is, it sort of sounds like they’re forcing it… HARD. Like pretty much all of these songs play out identically: a dramatic, slightly alluring guitar intro, followed by textural percussion and theatrical vocals, follow with some sort of a crescendo and/or solo, rinse, repeat, and believe me with the fact most of these songs utilise quite long, winding, but very linear song structures, you notice the similarities fast. Not only that, but it’s made worse by it being by and large the same kind of cycling guitars, similar kinds of drum grooves etc etc, on a lot of the songs, particularly on the first half. While it’s true there are some cool ideas on display, like the world music percussion on ‘Pneuma’, it’s in the context of a song that 4-5 minutes in I already feel bored by, and as much as I like the second half of ‘Culling Voices’, I’m not sure it was worth more than 6 minutes of clean guitars to get there. Speaking of being bored, while the soloing on ‘Chocolate Chip Trip’ was certainly doff-of-cap worthy, every single other interlude here is just completely wasted space, basically just acting as ambient white noise to break up displays of musical wankery and noodling. The thing is as well, from hearing TOOL’s past, revered output, I can tell that for all their virtuosity and technicality, they never sacrificed songwriting, or indeed the importance of heaviness, and groove, but it feels like often times on this album, all that takes a back seat in the name of trying to sound progressive, which for a band as established as them, just feels odd. There are definitely heavier moments here, and a few do work, but it feels like the rest either feel token, or just don’t go as hard as they should, or indeed could, which is a bummer. As a final note, I would really like to praise Maynard James Keenan’s vocal performances throughout the album. I’ll admit his quite theatrical, dramatic vocal delivery took a bit of getting used to, and the lyrics I didn’t get much from, but I do think he is a very compelling vocalist with a great, distinctive, melodic flair, acting as a really nice breath of fresh air from the often dull instrumentation beneath. Overall I can’t help but feel like TOOL maybe got lost in their own sauce a bit here. For sure there are spots where the songwriting really comes together into something super grand and epic, and the playing is absolutely consistently impressive, it just feels like they prioritised the wrong things. Instead of knuckling down, and writing and constructing great prog metal tracks, they instead chose to embark on a 90 minute exercise to attempt to prove their musical ability, something which basically everyone knew they already had anyway, and makes it feel kind of like you come across good ideas almost by coincidence.

Pendulum - Elemental (2021)

Pendulum are one of the biggest bands in electronic music in the 21st century. Their streak of three immensely successful albums between 2005 and 2011 helped to redefine drum and bass for a whole new generation, imbuing it with influences from pop and stadium rock to create a sound all their own. Then, in 2021, following ten years of essential radio silence. The group dropped the EP ‘Immersion.’ Admittedly, waiting ten years for an EP did feel a bit of an anti-climax, but a fair bit of the music on it is really quite strong. Opener ‘Driver’ follows right on from ‘Immersion’, pairing those characteristically sinister synth leads with huge, breakneck drums and some absolutely filthy white noise basslines. ‘Nothing For Free’ is perhaps the most typical sounding track of the four, with the punchy dubstep drums, brassy chorus melody and spacy atmospheres feeling straight out of the mid-2010s EDM chart hit playbook, but it certainly doesn’t sound bad, and it gives Rob Swire the opportunity to show that vocally, he’s absolutely still got it. Meanwhile ‘Come Alive’ sounds truly epic, a dramatic, stomping beat complimented by huge anthemic synth stabs and chainsaw guitar riffs. It’s a real headbanger, taking the sounds of ‘In Silico’ close to their logical conclusion, which is fine by me. Truthfully, the only track I’m not huge on is ‘Louder Than Words’ with Hybrid Minds, whose stab at a more airy, liquid DnB style, despite some pretty cool vocals, just feels slightly flat and underbaked. Certainly the least like a Pendulum song in any case.

My only main issue with the EP really is just how inconsequential it feels. Obviously the less than 15 minute run time won’t help, but in terms of structure, at least half of the tracks have quite a linear structure i.e build, drop, build, drop, and so at least in some cases can feel more like vessels for choruses than fully fleshed out songs as such. Granted, that's not necessarily a bad thing, but in combination with everything else, it does kind of make this EP feel like a bunch of ideas they were having fun with and threw out there to tide fans over, rather than a proper comeback, which is a little disappointing. Still, a lot of the music on it is pretty strong, and upon review of their newest EP, last year’s ‘Anima’, this is certainly the better of the two.

Limp Bizkit - STILL SUCKS (2021)

Defined by viral hits like ‘Break Stuff’, ‘Nookie’ and ‘Rollin’’, Limp Bizkit were at one time the simultaneously most popular and hated bands in nu-metal, their juvenile, Yankee cap wearing aggro swag raps and groove riffs to some exemplifying all wrong with the genre, along with accusations that 2003’s ‘Results May Vary’ was the nail in the coffin of the whole movement. However, following a not too bad at all initial reunion on 2011’s ‘Gold Cobra’, it seemed like the band were poised for a comeback. Then came the delays. First it was gonna be released in 2013, then not, produced by Ross Robinson, then not, then it would be an album of progressive, multi-phased pieces, then not. The whole thing was so much more of a circus than it had any right to be, reportedly being “rebooted” up to seven times. Then, finally, on Halloween 2021, ‘STILL SUCKS’ was released. Much to my delight, the album starts out seriously strong. The riffs and grooves on ‘Out of Style’ are absolutely beastly, and Fred Durst’s vocal ability I think has actually improved to some degree over time, despite still maintaining his trademark style. ‘Dirty Rotten Bizkit’ recalls the glory days of the ‘Chocolate Starfish’ era, not in a way that feels tacky or desperate, but just makes for a really cool, very catchy nu-metal banger with more solid vocals. The implementation of modern trap production and self-aware, tongue-in-cheek lyrics on ‘Dad Vibes’ go over a hell of a lot better than I would have ever expected, and DJ Lethal’s decision to dig out a House of Pain era floppy disk for ‘Turn It Up, Bitch’, has some rather fun results indeed. The band also do seek to experiment a little bit early on, and despite stepping a bit out of their comfort zone, the results, dare I say, are rather good. ‘You Bring Out the Worst in Me’ pairs ghoulish, atmospheric shoegaze with their classic gnarly riffage and Slipknot esque keg clangs to great effect, with one of Durst’s best performances in a hell of a long time, with some gut wrenching screams. Not only that, but given how much of a crime against humanity their cover of ‘Behind Blue Eyes’ was, you think they’d never attempt an acoustic cover ever again, but their interpretation of INXS’ ‘Don’t Change’ was surprisingly tactful and relatively well executed, and I don’t mind saying so.

Where this album falls apart though is really in the second half, similarly I suppose to Leftfield, but arguably even more pronounced. The one real bright spot is the bit of big pharma bashing Ministry worship on ‘Pill Popper’, once again offering up some utterly savage guitars and vocals, but beyond that, it’s close to barren. It really does befuddle me why, out of the reportedly 30+ tracks recorded for the album, they chose to include a bland acoustic number and fairly run of the mill bit of grunge worship, neither of which go beyond two minutes, along with another piece of far inferior boom-bap hip-hop and a barely exhale-from-the-nose worthy skit, but I’m not going to lose sleep trying to make sense of it. The most ridiculous tracks are probably those that bookend the b-side. ‘Love The Hate’ is a quasi-dramatic, electro-industrial, nightmare, which sees Durst role playing as two bros talking about how cringe and dumb Limp Bizkit are. Some of the attempts at humour almost land, but when Durst sings in the chorus that he “doesn’t give a fuck”, honestly, I don’t believe him. What’s more, the closer ‘Goodbye’, while maybe not as cringe inducing, is a huge eyebrow raiser, essentially featuring Durst doing a relatively naff NSYNC pastiche over an instrumental that sounds like it was ripped straight from AudioJungle. So, while I think it would have been impossible for the band to live up to the wait after all this time, I’m not lying when I say with the first half they were well on their way. If the second half indicates anything though, I have a sneaking suspicion that out of the 30 tracks recorded, they could’ve easily put together a FAR more consistent album, but instead chose to cobble a b-side together just to have the weight of its release off their backs quicker. Understandable I guess, but god the resulting album is such a mess. Guitarist Wes Borland has said more music is coming down the pipeline, but I’ll believe it when I see it, and ironically, I just hope they take their time.

Blur - The Ballad of Darren (2023)

Blur, and indeed Britpop as a whole, was never really a genre I paid great attention to, primarily because the level of cultural saturation meant that if I heard ‘Wonderwall’ one more time I might just jump out of my bedroom window. However, of all the big bands, Blur were probably the band I got the most out of, their basic, somewhat brash, yet very catchy approach resulting in some great singles over the years like ‘Song 2’, ‘Charmless Man’, ‘Boys and Girls’ and ‘Parklife.’ While it’s true they did reform once in 2015 to release ‘The Magic Whip’, it’s their second reformation and the release of their newest album ‘The Ballad of Darren’ that I really want to talk about, primarily because I’ve actually heard it. This album I’ll admit seemed a bit of an odd stylistic shift for the group, almost as if they heard the Arctic Monkeys fiddling around with “crooner glam-lounge” aesthetics on their last few albums and just went “ooo, I want to do that.” As disparaging as that might sound, there are some genuinely nice musical moments sprinkled throughout this album. The opener ‘The Ballad’ has a rather cool, cloudy, spacious vibe and touching lyrics, the chorus on ‘Avalon’ is incredibly uplifting and feel-good, some of the guitar progressions and vocals on ‘The Narcissist’ are quite pleasant on the ears, and the track ‘Barbaric’ is maybe the closest the band comes to truly recapturing that Britpop sound, just through a bit more of a sunshine, care-free lense, which is alright by me. Honestly though, that brings me to my main criticism of the album, its serious Achilles heel: almost none of it is “bad” per se, but LOADS of it is just very, very, very… fine.

As I mentioned previously, there are sprinklings of stuff throughout that deserve credit, no doubt about that, but so much of the album just came across to me as vaguely pleasant, soft rock dress up. Tracks like ‘Russian Strings’, ‘Goodbye Albert’, or ‘The Everglades’ I struggled to recall a single thing about after listening aside from a few nice melodies or competent vocal performances, simply because they both just sounded like wallpaper. Pleasant enough, slightly psychedelic wallpaper, but wallpaper all the same. Otherwise, there were a few cases of a problem endemic to modern rock albums, with potentially decent songs being derailed by a handful of baffling decisions. ‘St Charles Square’ or ‘The Heights' would be pretty decent pieces of raucous indie or festival balladry respectively, but the grating guitar leads and vocals, or completely unnecessary wall of white noise that closes the album out, really do slap that possibility in the face. Similar could apply to tracks like ‘Far Away Island’: the attempt at a waltz is certainly novel, but the reverb soaked, derelict mix and slightly offkey melodies leave a weird taste in my mouth. Even ‘Avalon’, sure, the chorus is good, but having a slightly militant, 80s arena rock section burst in from nowhere feels a bit like a square peg in a round hole. That in itself also sort of gets to the crux of my issue: this album has something weirdly uncanny about it, it’s too clean, too smooth, too fake in its presentation, and yet there are still the odd sour melody or bum note or strange arrangement that sticks out like a sore thumb. For every half decent idea, there are three or four showcasing a noticeably bland mix, annoying guitar sounds, weird group vocals, or maybe a few moments where the Arctic Monkeys or Bowie influences just feel a BIT too on the nose for comfort. It’s something a little uneasy that I can’t really place, and given how the quality of the material isn’t exactly revelatory to begin with, let’s just say I won’t be sinking much time into figuring out what it is.

The Good/The Great

Kate Bush - Aerial (2005/2018)

Quite frankly I could talk about this album all day. Famously reclusive art-pop pioneer Kate Bush took a 12-year hiatus following ‘The Red Shoes’ - arguably her most commercial album - and what she returned with was an absolute masterpiece. For the people lambasting this album as inoffensive, shopping centre soft rock, I have to ask what kind of potent stupid juice they must be drinking. Throughout the 80 minutes this album lasts, Kate and her collaborators give a display of their songwriting talent that’s as definitive as any other I’ve heard, if not better, which for Kate, is really something. Normally albums that go beyond an hour are a bit of a question mark for me, but Kate makes it fly by, while at the same time, creating a wonderfully filmic experience that in my experience is absolutely unparalleled. The first disc seems to be a celebration of people, both real and fake, each approached with an entirely unique sensibility. Elvis Tribute ‘King of the Mountain’ and reverence of French mythos on Joanni are both great, the quirky, string-backed reggae-rock having a brilliantly bombastic, cathartic effect, while the latter’s crisp drums, whirring electronics and lush orchestration are nothing short of heavenly. ‘Pi’ with its mix of jazzy grooves, bright keys and blissful guitars is just irresistible, and the ode to her son on ‘Bertie’ brings Renaissance music into the 21st century in the best way. Of course, the strutting, understated swagger and chiming mandolins on ‘How To Be Invisible’ make for a lovely moment too, but the centrepieces of the first disc for my money have to be the ballads. Not only is Mrs. Bartolozzi’ a wonderfully quirky, ornate and theatrical piano piece in classic Bush fashion, but on the final track of disc one, ‘A Coral Room’, Kate, whose vocal performances throughout this album, it goes without saying, are near flawless, gives a beautifully tactful, graceful, and genuinely tear-jerking eulogy to her recently deceased mother, making for perhaps the best ballad in her whole discography.

The fun doesn’t stop there of course, as then we get to disc two, and my is it a treat. Where the tracks on the first were individual celebrations of people, the tracks on the second disc instead see Kate interweaving a number of compositions into a continuous suite, a 40-or-so-minute tribute to the wonders of nature, and as hippyish as that might sound, it is absolute bliss from start to finish. From the twinkling piano progressions and euphoric orchestrated climax of ‘Prelude' and ‘Prologue’, it puts its best foot forward right from the off. The psychedelic, dreamy, middle-eastern inspired ‘Architect’s Dream’ and glorious string interlude ‘The Painter’s Link’ follow. Equal parts serene, relaxing, yet somewhat otherworldly, bright, and melodically rich and beautiful, they’re nothing short of amazing. The 2018 remaster in particular is aided by contributions from a grown up Bertie, who not only gives a frankly incredible performance, but also, maybe inadvertently brings the album’s themes of life full circle in a super cool way. Kate’s melding of jazz and flamenco on ‘Sunset’ is not only fantastic and effortless musically, but gives a great excuse for her to flex her very broad vocal range, all tied up with a great, exuberant finale. The final trifecta of the 80 minute experience is something truly magical though. The tender strings, sleek grooves, and brilliant vocal interplay make ‘Something In Between’, an incredibly enjoyable, slightly quirky duet, while ‘Nocturn’s use of a more linear, building structure and expansive run time means that Kate can essentially throw the musical kitchen sink at it: fantastic strings, guitars and keys, snappy drums, a KILLER bassline, sublime harmonies, you name it, it’s all here, and when you’re dealing with a master songwriter like Kate, it could only ever be incredible, not to mention the build in its final moments is absolutely exhilarating. Then finally comes ‘Aerial’, the track on which every of the albums strengths is on full, bombastic display, Kate’s incredibly graceful, characterful and acrobatic vocals, frankly beautiful string sections, great textural percussion and stomping drums, tactful touches of world instrumentation, an AMAZING guitar solo, and a very fitting use of found sound, all wrapped up in an infectiously optimistic vibe. It’s truly beyond words for me, a fitting tribute to Kate’s love of nature. I’ve often said that long gaps between albums make it nearly impossible to live up to hype, or that long albums are almost always pointless, or that artists “making the music that they want to make” often sets off my self-indulgence alarms.” Then along comes Kate, who over the course of 80 minutes, slaps my preconceived notions square across the face, producing in the process an absolute musical marvel, and undoubtedly one of my favourite albums of all time.

Public Image Ltd. - This Is PiL (2012)

From the ashes of the Sex Pistols breakup in 1978 rose PiL, with John Lydon and a revolving door of musicians fusing punk, rock, dub, disco, avant-garde and everything in between to create an entirely unique sound. Even when they smoothed out some of their sharp edges later on, there was still great music to be had. Then, in 2012, followed by a twenty year studio hiatus and preceded by three years of touring with a reformed lineup, ‘This is PiL’ was finally unleashed. Following a pretty cool, triumphant sounding intro track, the new band waste no time showcasing their musical prowess at its highest. The opening sequence of ‘One Drop’, ‘Deeper Water’ and ‘Terra Gate’ demonstrate this perfectly. Bruce Smith and Scott Firth lay down beats and bass that are equal parts funky, danceable, grooving, and just straight up mean in a great way, blurring the boundaries of rock, reggae and disco to great effect in the process. Atop this, Lu Edmonds uses his wide array of stringed instruments to paint the tracks with a searing, fiery, incredibly textured and unique musical topping, lending a great, often psychedelic edge to many tracks. Of course John is also on top form throughout the album too. His vocals are sharp and full of personality, and pretty versatile when he needs them to be. His lyrics are intelligent, forthright, contemplative, witty and acerbic, really at the top of his game, the perfect compliment to the band beneath. A great display of their combined power comes on closer ‘Out of the Woods’, Lu’s guitars and sazzes soaring and whirring over a punchy, motoring, militant groove, while John gives a truly pumped up performance, delivering lyrics with the intensity and purpose of an army general commanding his troops, and the ending bed of dreamy atmospheres acting as a fitting curtain close.

One thing this album is not, is an album of one sound, far from it in fact, and it’s actually some of these moments that highlight the great musicality at the heart of the group. The hopping beat and razorblade guitars complimenting John’s tales of English nostalgia on ‘Human’ make for a very nice, subtly dark, and unique change of pace, while slower tracks like ‘I Must Be Dreaming’ or ‘Reggie Song’ only serve to drive the point home that Bruce and Scott are an absolute powerhouse, James Towler’s excellent production making this rhythm section sound absolutely formidable, all the while John and Lu melodically weaving around them with ease, the most colourful of paints on the sturdiest of canvases, leading to end products that really are impressive. Even the album’s stabs at “pure experimentation” be given their flowers. The Room I Am In’, composed entirely by Lu, is an incredibly captivating and haunting piece of subtly shifting, sinister ambient music, to which John gives some very commanding spoken word encapsulating the greyness of his beloved Finsbury Park. Even ‘Lollipop Opera’ was thoroughly enjoyable for me. Yes, perhaps it’s a touch too long, but its bizzaro tribute to 50s/60s teddy boy fair music, fit with an animated vocal performance and amusingly absurd lyrics, makes for quite a nice detour. The tracks that I would maybe characterise as “weaker” like ‘It Said That’ or ‘Fool’ aren’t even too bad at all in truth, it’s just that when the pre-established level of quality is already so high, it’s natural you might get a few that don’t reach the same heights. Overall though, what I’ll say is that one thing that is very hard for a band to do, let alone after a reunion, is to successfully redefine their sound, and yet these guys did it. There’s just something special about the alchemy of the four people in the room that means they can properly flesh out that incredibly unique, boundary pushing, and distinctive “PiL sound.” Not only that, but they also sound fantastic doing it, setting the stage for two other very good albums to follow. Kudos, chaps.

Black Sabbath - 13 (2013)

Since initially reforming in 1997, a couple of attempts had been made to get new Black Sabbath material off the ground. I’m sure people would’ve loved a full Bob Marlette produced album after hearing the two bonus tracks on the ‘Reunion’ album, and then in 2001, there was even a live debut of another track, ‘Scary Dreams’, that got fans’ hopes up, and yet, no dice. Then, finally in 2012, Ozzy, Tony and Geezer re-entered the studio, with ex-Rage Against The Machine drummer Brad Wilk and superproducer Rick Rubin in tow, and ‘13’ was the result. It was discussed in the press around the album’s release that a lot of this album seemed like an exercise in nostalgia, and I do agree, but it makes for some absolutely kick ass material. Even some of the tracks on the shorter side like ‘Loner’ or ‘Live Forever’ I'm sure tick many a fan’s boxes for classic-era Sabbath. The dark, grooving, gnarly riffs, the pounding, air-tight rhythms, speed changes, guitar solos, and of course all topped off with Ozzy’s sinister, dramatic crooning and Geezer’s misanthropic, gritty lyricism. The highlight of this album has to be the guitars, because my god these riffs hit like sledge hammers, and the rest of the band certainly offer a worthy and appropriate backing. The guys certainly don’t skimp on quantity as well as quality though, as it’s the tracks that stretch to seven, eight, even near nine minutes, where they come the closest to recapturing their power. Take the opener, ‘End of the Beginning’ for instance, starting of as a mammoth sized doomy dirge, it then transitions into an all out barnstormer, with gnashed teeth riffs and persistent grooves, all while Ozzy gives a vocal performance fit with a great sense of foreboding. A fantastic, unwieldy guitar solo and victorious finale follow, giving you a great track. How could you forget ‘God Is Dead?’, a nine minute epic playing out an existentialist thriller in metal form, with some absolutely evil guitar work, gnarly bass runs and tempo changes, and perhaps Ozzy’s most versatile performance on the whole record.

Moving further in, ‘Age of Reason’ has maybe the best groove on the album, with Geezer and Brad absolutely just locking in and hammering away, keeping that sense of synergy through the multitude of speed changes, and making it look easy, lending to the track’s dark, militant vibe. Brad might not be Bill Ward, but he can fucking play. Furthermore, perhaps some of the more obvious attempts at nostalgia, like the harmonica on ‘Damaged Soul’ do well to lend to the track’s attempt to give a piece of gritty blues rock a dose of that dark, demonic Sabbath evil and foreboding, doing so quite well in the process. Then, while it’s true that ‘Dear Father’ isn’t offering a whole lot musically we haven’t heard already, it still sounds very good, and the subtle orchestral and organ touches along with its generally tragic, dramatic vibe and seemingly anecdotal lyrics on exploitation of religion do give it a certain degree of oomph. That does, I suppose, play into one of the few criticisms of the record, in that it can feel quite one-dimensional. Certainly the riffs and grooves are consistently pretty dark and brutal, but after 70 minutes, I do see myself wanting a bit of respite. On that topic though, the most egregious bit of nostalgia bait is the album’s lone ballad, ‘Zeitgeist’, which just sounds so blatantly like they sat round in a circle to try and write ‘Planet Caravan 2’, and so comes across a bit corny and desperate. Of course Rick Rubin’s production is a sore spot for some people, as the high levels of compression and distortion can be quite punishing, but at least in concept, giving Sabbath’s sound a beefier presentation does make sense, just maybe not quite this much. On the whole though, the guys, in my opinion, did a great job here. The riffs gargantuan, bass grinding, grooves thumping, vocals and lyrics as sinister and dark as they are catchy and distinctive. In my mind, they saw everything people might want in an Ozzy-Sabbath reunion, and give it to you at a damn high level, even if a bit one-dimensional in spots. Plus, given that now all 16 tracks from the sessions are released in some form, I can quite confidently say that this absolutely brutal 100 minutes of music the guys came together with could give any metal band a run for their money, and would’ve worked just as great as a double album.

Renaldo & The Loaf - Gurdy Hurding (2016)

As a duo throughout the 70s and 80s, Dave Janssen and Brian Poole produced some of the most innovative, strange, and great music of modern times, earning rightful cult hero status in the process. So then, it was the delight of oddballs everywhere when the duo, after a 29 year studio absence, came out with ‘Gurdy Hurding.’ Describing this album seems an almost impossible task. After all, its fusion of glitchy electronica, avant-garde, world and folk music feels more a product of an alien planet than anything else. If these guys prove anything though, they can take even the most disparate, strange combination and make it sound awesome. Whether it’s the sharp, noisy horns and shuffling drums on ‘Henri Rise’, the intricate percussive waltz on ‘The Pessimistic Song’, or the title track’s tape loop laden craziness, it makes for an incredibly diverse and utterly unique set of tracks. The fun hardly stops there though. ‘A Convial Ode’ sounds like a soundtrack to a knight’s epic quest across the valleys after a couple too many funny mushrooms, and the string backed, hip-hop Morris dancing bagpipe jig on ‘Carrot Ballet’ is just inspired in every way. There are a few more openly accessible moments as well, showing not only the guys’ great skill as audiological mad scientists, but also as very talented songwriters. The plucky, manic guitars and danceable beats on ‘Scent of Turnip’ is maybe the weirdest and equally wicked “dance track” you’ll hear for quite a while, ‘The Moment Is Lost’ comes across as a genuinely colourful, exuberant, quirky piece of video game music, and the dark ominous keyboards, eerie violin passages, and mad blurts of saxophone on ‘Gladsome Vane’ make for maybe the best track on the whole record. The only real dip I would say is maybe the largely ambient ‘Asper Dorsalis’, but even then there’s a fair bit of interesting soundplay going on. Wherever you turn on this record, I believe it’s just not possible to be bored.

The input of vocalist Brian Poole can’t be understated either. Much like bands like The Residents or Primus, he approaches each track with a unique mix of charm, oddity, character, exuberance and humour that only serves to amplify each of their individual eccentric qualities, his consistently animated and unorthodox delivery positioning him halfway between compelling campfire storyteller and musical theatre performer. Whether he’s offering up esoteric gardening tutorials on ‘Scent of Turnip’, offering up a mundane yet cartoony character portrayal on ‘Henri Rise’, painting a vibrant picture of a bustling market square on ‘Improbable Legs’, or simply peppering a number of tracks with a mixture of chopped and screwed scatting and regional gobbledygook, after which you realise the vocals are just as much a texture as anything else, a delicious garnish on top of this eclectic musical soup. The more I listen to this album, the more I take in and appreciate its coalescing of influences, the more it makes me feel as though the aim of this album was to give the incredibly rich lineage of Olde English folk music, culture and storytelling a sort of modern, dadaist update. If that is the case, safe to say it’s mission accomplished with flying colours. Not only that, but while they may be a way off the top 40, given its comparatively accessible sound, if you’re looking for an entry point to dip your toes into Renaldo and the Loaf, this is an excellent place to start.

Black Grape - Pop Voodoo (2017)

In terms of reunions, it seems to be that Shaun Ryder has a pretty good track record. As previously mentioned, he put together a pretty damn solid record with the Mondays in 2007, and then after reforming Black Grape with Kermit Levridge and producer Youth, they put together an even better one ten years later with ‘Pop Voodoo’. In interviews around its release, Shaun said that the sound of the album was the result of wanting to combine “the Bee Gees, The Buzzcocks, The Monkees and The Beach Boys with hip-hop and Motown.” You’d be forgiven for thinking that a collection of such a wide array of disparate influences would be impossible to coalesce, and yet, somehow, they pull it off. If I could use one word to describe this album it would be “fun”, and right from the off it’s clear that these guys are here to have a ton of it. The opening track might not be the most indicative of its sound, but it’s still certainly very enjoyable, a spoken, banterous knockabout and political pastiche put over a snappy breakbeat with lively horns and wacky sound effects. Never would I think Donald Trump being called a “knobhead” or Hilary Clinton “an old bird who fucked up on a computer” would be this funny. Then, as you move on to tracks like ‘Nine Lives’, ‘Set The Grass On Fire’, or the more raucous ‘String Theory’, the album moves into high gear. It’s clear that Youth really understood the assignment from a production standpoint: colourful, psychedelic hammond organs, bright, exuberant horn hits and funky, swaggerful guitars playing off snappy drums and sleek basslines work an absolute treat damn near every time. Not to mention in the case of the latter it’s pretty damn rocking too. It’s groovy, it’s funky, it’s colourful, and just a real good time. It’s testament to the guy that he can take musical elements that normally repulse me, like cheesy 50s/60s rock n roll on ‘Set The Grass…’ beats, and actually make them work. Beyond the already multifaceted sonic palette, Youth also takes it upon himself to imbue the album with a handful of world music influences that are a very welcome addition, from the implementation of Spanish guitars on the bright and serene ‘Whiskey Wine and Ham’, to the more expansive and spritely salsa/disco/hip-hop fusion on ‘Sugar Money’, or the prominent Afro-Caribbean rhythms on the title track. It’s a musical soup with a hell of a lot of ingredients, but luckily, Youth is a Michelin star chef. The one track that seems to recall the duo’s 90s heyday most faithfully is ‘I Wanna Be Like You’, whose combination of bright brass, laidback, shuffling percussion and 90s rave pianos is absolute bliss, not to mention it comes packaged with one of a few pretty wicked guitar solos on the record too.

This certainly isn’t an album where the production carries though, no sir, as both Ryder and Levridge are seen to be on top form, acting as the perfect compliment to one another’s respective styles. On one hand, you have Shaun, whose Mancunian holler is as brash and distinctive as ever, lending the tracks a sense of bombast, animation and liveliness that serves them very well. Yet, for as non-musical as his delivery may seem, he can put together a bloody catchy chorus, not to mention that his more straightforward “raps” do their job pretty well as well, more reserved but still characterful and sharp-tongued. Elsewhere, you have Kermit, who it seems on this album has somewhat expanded to great effect. Whereas before he was more the cut and dry rapper of the two, here he takes on a much more openly melodic role, gifting many a track throughout with some killer earworm refrains and harmonies, all while still maintaining that sense of unflappable, laidback coolness that makes his performances so enjoyable. Although of course, he does still rap in spots, and it’s safe to say he hasn’t lost it. A final key appeal of the duo’s music I’ve yet to mention is of course the lyrics. Both Shaun and Kermit engage in what they call “comic strip madness”, and I can see where that comes from: vivid, absurd imagery and references, an endearing, slightly wacked out sense of humour and wonderfully unique use of language, combine with a refreshingly stream-of-consciousness type approach to create a set of lyrical acid trips that only these dudes could conjure up, and they fit the music like a glove. The only criticism I have really, is that a couple of the tracks on the latter end like ‘Losing Sleep’, or particularly ‘Young and Dumb’, just seem to lose a bit of that musical momentum the album had built up to that point. Not necessarily because they're more chilled, as earlier tracks like the sun-soaked, woozy hip-hop of ‘Money Burns’ do well from slowing things down a bit, but just that the musical ideas these tracks present, while still appealing for the same broad reasons, don’t seem to have quite the same spark, fire or flair the others do. That aside though, I think this is absolutely a worthy successor to the duo’s first two albums. God knows they had a very high bar to live up to, but luckily for us, both producer and vocalists really brought their A-game, stepping up to the plate and scoring an easy home run.

The Streets - The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light (2023)

Since reforming in 2017, the multiple releases that Mike Skinner put out as The Streets were presented more as a series of soft reboots than a full fledged comeback. A few non album singles, an EP, a duets mixtape, these weren’t the real, definitive returning statements, probably for the best given their varying quality. That, we were told, would come in the form of a film and accompanying soundtrack over ten years in the making. Then, finally, last October, ‘The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light’ was finally unleashed on the world. A term I’ve used in the past to describe albums like this is that it very much feels like “a greatest hits of new material.” In essence, a band or artist grabbing bits and pieces from across their sonic oeuvre and presenting them all on one record. Now, if done wrong, it can make albums feel like disorganised box ticking exercises. In the right hands however, it can make an album a really cool, musically varied experience, and Mike certainly has the pedigree to carry it off. In any context, Mike’s beats will always sound like Mike’s beats, a brilliant, off-beat collusion of styles from across the UK rap and electronic spectrum, with plenty of switches, and always with his own signature twist. You get echoes of early 2000s bassline on ‘Too Much Yayo’ or ‘Not a Good Idea’, a thoroughly enjoyable electro-reggae jaunt on ‘Something to Hide’, nods to 90s house on ‘Kick The Can’, or a bit of good old fashioned, dramatic DnB on ‘Troubled Waters’, all of which show Mike as a true student of the game. There are also a number of beats that show his own distinctive sonic calling cards coming to the fore, recalling his great past works while remaining fully contemporary with just as enjoyable results. The dark melodies, glitchy electronics and skittering drums on ‘Bright Sunny Day’ or ‘Funny Dream’ recall his 2011 swansong ‘Computers and Blues’, while the more rustic palette of 2008’s ‘Everything is Borrowed is echoed very nicely on tracks like ‘Walk of Shame’, while the uplifting piano balladry on the closer ‘Good Old Daze’ is an example of the kind of track Skinner’s been seen to master over the years. Believe me though when I say this is no mere nostalgia trip, as Mike also finds time to experiment with some pretty wicked new ideas as well: the string backed eastern psych on ‘It’s Gonna Hurt when This Is Over’ has a genuinely cool, enveloping effect, the title track’s ragtime flip is a very enjoyable, novel little experiment, and his updating of his sonic palette to include some more contemporary, dark trap-style sounds on ‘Money Isn’t Everything’, ‘Shake Hands With Shadows’ or ‘Someone Else’s Tune’ are maybe some of the coolest of all. Quite frankly, it shits all over his other new material with ease.

“What about the vocals?” I hear you cry. After all, they are the focal point of rap albums. Well, dear readers, best believe Skinner and Co. absolutely pulled out all the stops here. Granted, his vocal delivery isn’t for everyone, with a slightly deadpan, heavily accented delivery halfway between rap, stream-of-consciousness and mad slam poetry, for those that love it, like me, I’m happy to report Mike’s on top form throughout. It seemed to me that on more recent material, with Mike’s delivery, some of that spark had just sort of disappeared. He was never a 6ix9ine or anything like that, but the “deadpanness” of his raps in recent years seemed to have reached a kind of sad apex, like he’d rather be anywhere but the studio. Here though, it sounds like he really lit a fire under his arse, displaying a reinvigorated sense of moxy that’s an absolute joy to behold. Naturally, due to this, it improves things on so many levels to a surprisingly high degree: the charm is a lot more pronounced, that slightly “cheeky chappy” sensibility shines through so much more, the sardonic wit, sarcasm and acerbic humour are more palpable, making the punchlines land harder, the emotions in his voice, whether hyped up, reflective, wryly mocking, contemplative or downbeat, mean the lyrics carry so much more weight. Not to mention his handful of sung performances are also vastly improved. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. Streets albums are of course often a gang affair as well, and many of the additional contributors' performances just take those songs to the next level. Whether it’s Rob Harvey’s depressive crooning on ‘Bright Sunny Day’, Laura Vane’s fantastic melodies on ‘Funny Dream’, the great guest verse from Teef on ‘Money Isn’t Everything’, or of course the numerous fantastic choruses and harmonies brought by right-hand man Kevin Mark Trail, it’s clear Mike has a very discerning ear for what elements would make a track work, and everyone really steps up to the plate. On the subject of lyrics then, it seems natural Mike would also bring his A-game. Paralleling the film’s tales of a DJ’s misadventures in nightclub land, Skinner knows he’s not 22 anymore, and he uses this to his advantage, positioning himself as a kind of all-seeing eye, observing the madness below, resulting in some very compelling, vivid and gritty storytelling. As a knock on effect, it also allows the more personal moments to be more mature and contemplative at large, achieved to great effect. Of course this all comes packaged with a brilliantly creative and unique use of language, mind-boggling, multiline wordplay, and a list of offbeat references and metaphors as long as my arm, all of which remind me why Skinner’s skills are still worthy of being held in such high regard. It’s kind of remarkable really. Given how much of his post-reunion material presided in the meh-disappointing range, my hopes for the “proper comeback” being good were very nearly flushed down the loo. I just had to cling on and pray that he was saving all the good stuff. Amazingly, it turns out my prayers were entirely answered. Fantastic, kaleidoscopic beats, great vocal performances, clever, humorous, offbeat lyricism, tasteful utilisation of guests, everything you could possibly want on a Streets comeback and then some is here, present and correct, making this an album easily worth waiting 12 years for. Whether the film itself tells the same tale I’m not sure, but I know now that I really want to see it. 

So, what did we learn? What makes a great reunion album? Well, honestly, I wish I could give a more definitive answer. There are a few common denominators: 9 times out of 10, it’s no good simply offering a nostalgia trip, but I feel like at the same time, it might be best to approach new ideas with a respect for what made you popular in the first place and pushing that into new territories, rather than just engaging in musical blind dart throwing. Perhaps the key one would be that all the best reunion albums feel like they had a real reason to be made, a result of a genuine blast of information or a rekindling of synergy, rather than just being thrown together for a quick cash grab or just because you can, although as we saw right at the beginning, even that can go wrong. For me, the biggest factor has to be time. I’d never advocate for bands strictly making music “for the fans”, but I do think going about it like it’s any other album is a bit of a wrong move. Given the long gap, decades in some cases, there is an extra, sort of unspoken level of responsibility with making an album like this. I feel like, at least to a degree, you do have to put yourself in the minds of the fans a little bit and ask the question “is it really worth this long of a wait?” By all means take the time if needs be, but I implore bands to just make sure that when it’s finished, you can put it out safe in the knowledge you gave it everything you could, dotting your i’s and crossing the t’s to an inch of their life, otherwise, god knows you’ll be in for a rough time. I’d like to say that the surprisingly high number of good, and pertinently, recent examples gives me confidence in the concept going forwards, showing maybe the music industry at large has learned from its mistakes, but if I’ve also learned anything from writing this, whichever way you slice it, it’s one hell of a balancing act.