The sharp eyed of you out there will have noticed that Nearly Perfect Album Series reached its 100th post a few weeks ago (It was the Beta Band’s Three EP’s in case you missed it). A nearly perfect album, either selected by me or someone else (in the snappily titled spin off series Someone Else’s Nearly Perfect Albums) has featured here on Saturday mornings since this blog started – and for those of you who missed the very first one, here is a track from that,
New Way, New Life – Asian Dub Foundation (2000, London Records, Taken from ‘Community Music’)
It is a series that means a lot to me, and it’s a series that will continue for as long as this blog continues – or until we run out of Nearly Perfect Albums (and for the record the short list has 112 more albums on it but that will be upped to 113 later on when I add the new Nadine Shah record to it).
If you dig out your Big Boys/Girls Dictionary of Indie you will see that the Definition of a Nearly Perfect Album described in tabular form on pages 2783, but if you can’t find your copy, I’ll repeat what it says.
“A Nearly Perfect Album, is an album that is very good indeed. Worth getting a burn in a house fire for but not one worth sacrificing the cat for. It is an album that if you marked it out of ten would receive at least a nine but no more than 9 point 99 recurring for its troubles. It will be stopped from being actually perfect by at least one song (something referred to in the industry as the ‘The New Dawn Fades Interjection’) or by being too short, too long, or by featuring a guest performance by any former member of The Smiths or Kate Bush or anyone who has ever been in Eastenders (but mainly Phil Daniels). It may also contain xylophones or clarinets but definitely not both and definitely not on the same song.”
All of which brings us to this month, which takes its inspiration from the Nearly Perfect Series by exploring a bunch of albums that are not quite good enough for that series but are still excellent records that deserve your attention. This will be a month of albums that score 8 out of ten, eight and a half at a push but are stopped from being Nearly Perfect by a variety of things, usually a couple of ropey songs, or a Glockenspiel solo or because they feature Kanye West ‘singing’. It will be a month of Nearly Nearly Perfect Albums.
So each day, one or two (or if I’m feeling particularly nice, three) albums will feature, they will as ever be selected at random from a big list that I have created – most of which were cut from the Nearly Perfect list because on reflection – they aren’t quite that.
So with that, let’s press the shuffle button and see what get vomited out by the algorithm
1. Demon Days – Gorillaz (2005, EMI Records)
I hated the first Gorillaz album, largely because it was a bunch of underwhelming songs wrapped around one decent song (that being ‘Clint Eastwood’) and I really expected to hate the second one or to find it almost exactly the same, in that it contained a bunch of songs that sounded unfinished wrapped around another one about Clint Eastwood (that being ‘Dirty Harry’ – even though it does contain a children’s choir, which automatically means disqualification from being anywhere near Nearly Perfect).
Dirty Harry – Gorillaz (2005, EMI Records)
For a while I thought I was right, because on the first listen, ‘Demon Days’ is a rambling mess of a load of ideas, none of which push themselves to the front and grab your attention. You get some dub, some bass heavy new wave, Damon Albarn pretending to be Bob Dylan, piano interludes, tracks that sound like Blur and bloody Shaun William Ryder being bloody Shaun William Ryder, it is an album that made me roll my eyes in despair to be honest.
But.
Give it a second listen and then a third and it starts to make sense because those rambling messes that I mentioned above are actually subtly brilliant tracks that combine wonderfully. ‘Kids with Guns’ for instance isn’t just a song on which Albarn mumbles on, it is in fact a song that contrasts in styles from laid back to desperate and pleading. ‘Feel Good Inc’ switches effortlessly from being a folky indie singalong into something very close to a grime track.
Kids With Guns – Gorillaz (2005, EMI Records)
Feel Good Inc – Gorillaz (2005, EMI Records)
And then of course, there is ‘Dare’ where Albarn takes a back seat whilst Ryder somehow provides us with his finest musical hour since ‘In the Name of the Father’. ‘Dare’ should be like every other time when indie and lofi dubby hip hop combine, rubbish. But, it isn’t, it’s marvellous even from the first listen, the one idea on the whole album, that works from the get go.
Dare – Gorillaz (2005, EMI Records)
Ok, what’s next Alexa..?
2. Floodland – Sisters of Mercy (1987, Warner Records)
Now. I’d like to think that right now, this is the only music blog on the planet that gives you songs by Gorillaz and the Sisters of Mercy on the same day, but I might be wrong. Anyway suck up the eclecticism because it will (probably) be the last time that happens.
I’ve mentioned this before, but my brother was a temporary Goth. In 1992, after an ill-judged whirlwind holiday romance with a Goth girl from Saffron Waldon called Richelle (definitely not Michelle) who dumped him outside the Camden Underworld, of all places, my brother abandoned his Goth phase and went back to being a metaller. There can be no worse sight in the world than a pair of largely unused pointy winkle pickers shoved into a dustbin with the potato peelings next to an abandoned metal chain with a raven on it. Most true Goths would probably see that as symbolic of societies norms but for him, it was cathartic.
Still on the plus side, I inherited several (well all) of his Goth rock records, most of which found their way to the second hand shop in Chatham’s Pentagon centre and I would suspect, most of them are still there. I keep three of them, a Cult Twelve Inch, something by The Glove and ‘Floodland’ by the Sisters of Mercy. ‘Floodland’ by the Sisters of Mercy, remains to this day the only one of those records that I would ever choose to actually listen to, because its ace, before you ask.
Yes, it’s overblown, pompous and the songs by and large too long and full of lyrics about blood and ashes and general darkness that are laced with gloomy synths and spooky whispered vocals, but it also contains these two absolute belters and that makes it very good indeed.
Lucretia My Reflection – Sisters of Mercy (1987, Warner Records)
This Corrosion – Sisters of Mercy (1987, Warner Records)
Do we want a lyrical clue for one of the albums for tomorrow….? Ok, here it comes whether you are Ready Or Not,
“here I come, you can’t hide. Gonna find you and take it slowly”.
Oh, I’ve rather given that away. Bugger.