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Nice one to ease you all into the weekend, it's Don Henley and Patti Smith, with “Sometimes love just ain't enough”.

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Ever been listening to an album and thinking this is great! And then suddenly, a really BAD track comes along, and you think, oh no that's really spoiled things? No, probably not: one track won't spoil an album, if it's good enough. But there's no doubt that a real turkey can temporarily take you out of the “happy place” you've been in up to then, bring you back to earth with a bump, even if after it's done, skipped over or ignored you go back to enjoying the album.

This section is dedicated to the “bad apples”, the one or two lower quality, or occasionally crappy tracks that make us wonder how the hell did THAT ever get on the album? Obviously, not everyone will agree with my choices, and some may believe the tracks I choose are better than I see them to be, but these are the impressions --- first and lasting --- that the below songs have left on me. These are the songs that are skipped when I play the album, or never added to a playlist.

The diary of Horace Wimp (Electric Light Orchestra) from “Discovery”, 1979
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You can say what you like about this track, I bloody hate it! I hate everything about it, right down to the fact that they miss out Saturday on the annoying count of days in the end to fade, the weird and creepy voice that says “Horrrrace” at the end, the teeth-grindingly irritating vocoder effects (which usually I am ok with when it comes to ELO), the trumpet/baseball fanfare, and the whole idea of the thing being so damn simplistic. I also hate the melody. There, I just hate it, is all. And it comes on one of the very first records, never mind ELO albums, but one of the very first ever records I bought, on what I consider to be one of ELO's best albums (though others may dispute that), and in between the lovely ballad “Need her love” and the bouncy, happy “Last train to London”. How, oh how could they?

Patricia the stripper (Chris de Burgh) from “Spanish train”, 1975
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I've always hated “Patricia the stripper”. I think it ruins the “Spanish train” album by Chris de Burgh. The whole thing is (as stated in my review of same during last year's “Seventies Week”) based around the ideas of love, fealty and a longing for home, with some great allegorical tales thrown in, most notably “Just another poor boy” and the title track. This, however, is a bawdy, tawdry tale set to a twenties melody and theme which I hate anyway, and seems totally out of place with the almost reverent tone of the album. Say what you like, but I hate it. Boo!

I think I'm going bald (Rush) from “Caress of steel”, 1975
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Finally, we have Rush. How can an album that's so well crafted as “Caress of steel”, with its two epics --- “The Fountain of Lamneth” and “The Necromancer”, a heavy rocker like “Bastille Day” and the lovely, laidback “Lakeside Park” have a song about … going bald? Okay, I know they were poking fun at themselves, envisaging old age, and yes, it's not a terrible song, but really, it breaks the spell woven by this excellent album, and while it doesn't ruin it, it certainly sours the mood. With “Lakeside Park” to follow it, and coming after the powerful opener, it's a bit of a “wtf?” moment, and I really think the album could do without it.

Is there anything to be read into the fact that all of the above come from albums released in the seventies? No, I don't think so: poor songwriting and bad tracks respect no such boundaries, and I'm sure I can find plenty from any other decade, once I start looking!

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Oh come on! You want a bit of Quo, you know you do...! :)

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As I remarked in the intro to my last post in this section, I've been less than lucky with my reviews of 2012 albums, having only come across one so far that I liked. This I hope, assume, expect, will help to begin turn the tide. It's not like I have any fears about it not living up to my expectations: I mean, come on! It's the Boss!

Wrecking ball --- Bruce Springsteen --- 2012 (Columbia)
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The first new album from Bruce since 2010's “The Promise”, the first thing I notice about this album may not be all that significant, but I'd like to mention it anyway. It's the first time I've ever seen his name spelt in two separated words, as if his name were Bruce Spring Steen, and the way the album cover is created makes it look like spraypaint on a wall, which is probably intentional. The stylised wrecking ball behind the words seems to be trying to knock down the name and title: not very likely! This is also the last album to feature the great Clarence Clemmons, Bruce's longtime sax player who has been with him as part of the E Street Band since, well, forever. Clarence sadly passed away last year.

It starts off with heavy drums pounding on a real anthem, “We take care of our own”, which is also the lead single from the album. The whole theme of this album is rage against Wall Street, bankers and the pure greed and shortsightedness that led to us being where we are today. It's a powerful rocker, with Bruce in fine voice as ever, even at the ripe old age of sixty-three: he certainly takes care of himself, whatever about the acid sarcasm of the title of this opener. It's got the power and anger and determination of “The Rising”, but with a real sense of raging disappointment that things have been allowed to get so out of hand.

“Easy money” has a very celtic feel about it, hard folk rock with tinges of Texas country, attacking the suits on Wall Street who caused the present crisis which seems like it will be with us forever. There's a great sense of excitement and abandonment in the song, as the suits go in search of profit, believing there will never be an end to the ride. More folk rock in “Shackled and drawn”, and the somewhat simple arrangements on many of the songs echo his acoustic masterpiece, “Nebraska”, but with an electric edge this time. More celtic fusion on this song, with accordion, celesta and violins; there's a huge entourage of musicians helping out on this album, including the New York Chamber Consort and the Victorious Gospel Choir, as well as longtime members of the E Street Band Steve van Zandt, Max Weinberg and Patti Scialfa, though everyone does not play on every track. The fifties-style ballad “Jack of all trades” recalls the real workingclass blues with which Springsteen made his name, the songs of ordinary people struggling through sometimes extraordinary times. It has a very waltz style to it, with some nice but sad horns, particularly trombone from Clark Gayton, clarinet and sax from Stan Harrison as Bruce sings ”You use what you've got/ And you learn to make do/ You take the old/ And you make the new” though almost immediately he betrays simmering anger boiling over as he snarls ”If I had me a gun/ I'd find the bastards and shoot them on sight.” A fine electric guitar solo from Tom Morello sets off the song perfectly at the end, crying out the frustration of a million Americans who are highly skilled but can't find work in the so-called land of opportunity, and echoing that of the rest of us across the world.

Gospel themes merge with celtic for “Death to my hometown” --- perhaps back-referencing the closing track on “Born in the USA” --- a stomping anthem laced with pure rage and frustration, and you could definitely see this being a major part of future concerts as people vent their anger and dissatisfaction --- and let's face it: no matter what country Springsteen plays in, there are going to be people angry at their government. A slow, crunching ballad then in “This depression”, just to underline the point, and where Bruce sounded angry but determined to survive on “The Rising”, here he just sounds angry: livid, in fact, looking at what his home country has been reduced to. Sentiments we all echo, no matter where we are.

Tom Morello again lets loose with some angry, almost feedback guitar through this song, though Bruce himself is not content to just sing and play guitar, adding banjo, organ, piano, drums and even loops to his repertoire. Is there anyone who works harder at his music? The title track is a folky, Guthriesque country rocker with great violin and a fine chorus. Halfway through it kicks totally into life, rocking along like a good thing, and featuring a glorious sax solo from the late Clarence Clemmons, the Big Man giving it all he has. This song was recorded in 2009, two years before the E Street Band legend's death from a stroke.

There's a great sense of defiance about this track as Bruce shouts ”Come on! Let's see what ya got!/ Come on and bring on your wreckin' ball!” Starting off as an acoustic song then, “You've got it” is the closest to a “Nebraska” track, with pedal steel from Marc Mueller and lap steel, banjo and mandolin from Greg Leisz, great horns again from Stan Harrison as the song takes off halfway, ending on a great guitar solo to fade. “Rocky ground” opens with deep, heavy synth and drum loops, a gospel anthem and even features a rap, of all things, courtesy of Michelle Moore. It's a new style for Bruce to try, but then he's never been afraid to branch out and try something different. The Victorious Gospel Choir add a whole new dimension to the song, and indeed apart from having gospel themes, the lyric is actually based in religion, something Springsteen has previously shied from, even on “The Rising”, where you thought if he was ever going to reference Jesus or God that it would be there. Given the desperation and frustration evidenced all through this album though, it really fits into the structure, and doesn't seem out of place or odd.

Written way back in 1998, and featuring the last of Clarence's solos, “Land of hope and dreams” manages to completely encapsulate the feel and aim of this album in one track, a powerful, anthemic, air-punching song of hope and faith that is sure to rock every stadium in Bruce's upcoming tour. Echoing the best of albums like “Born to run” and “Darkness on the edge of town”, with lines taken from Curtis Mayfield's “People get ready”, you can't help but feel uplifted by its power and grace, and the album closes on “We are alive”, a boppy, uptempo folk rocker with great banjo and mandolin from Greg Leisz, a real upper to end the album, with a sharp message in the lyric.

This is one very angry album, which is just as it should be. If there's one man who can claim to speak for the dispossessed, the poor and the disenfranchised, at least in America, it's the Boss, and here he vents the anger and frustration and dismay and disbelief in just about every American heart, at least those of the ninety-nine percent. His land of dreams has become a broken land, and he damn well wants to know why, and what the people in power intend to do about it!

If I were them, I'd come up with an answer pretty damn quick!

TRACKLISTING

1. We take care of our own
2. Easy money
3. Shackled and drawn
4. Jack of all trades
5. Death to my hometown
6. This depression
7. Wrecking ball
8. You've got it
9. Rocky ground
10. Land of hope and dreams
11. We are alive

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Could there be stranger bedfellows? Meat Loaf and Barry Manilow? Couldn't exactly see ol' Baz singing “Bat out of Hell” now, could you? Well, of course that never happened, but the sultan of smooth did cover a Meat Loaf track, although in fairness it was --- like most of Meat's best work --- written by his old pal, Jim Steinman.

The song in question appeared on the album “Dead ringer”, the last to feature Meat Loaf and Steinman working together before their highly-publicised split and lawsuits, though they did sort it out and get back together thirteen years later for the release of one of Meat's most popular albums, the sequel to “Bat out of Hell”.

The song concerned here is a ballad, one of Steinman's many excellent ones, but ironically it wasn't a hit for Meat and didn't grace the charts until Barry Manilow covered it in 1983, two years after it had been released from the “Dead ringer” album. He makes a decent job of it (when does he not pour his heart and soul into anything he does?) but I still prefer Meat Loaf's original; I find there's just more emotion and passion in it.

As usual, here are the two versions for you to decide and make up your own mind as to which you prefer.

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Part Two: "Gonna write a classic. Probably."
The voyage has been long and troubling, more for the fear of what lies at its destination than due to any maritime adventures along the way, of which there have been precious few. It's been almost four months since we left the faintly shimmering coastline of Early Boybandland behind, and as is my task I've spent the time reading up on and --- say it without fear --- listening to the music of what I will term the “classic boybands”, although that's something of an oxymoron: there's nothing classic about any of these bands, nor will there ever be. But on a scale of let's say importance to the genre, these bands would be best known and rank the highest. New Kids on the Block and New Edition may have started the craze back in the early eighties, but it's really the nineties that this whole thing got totally out of hand, and boybands started springing up everywhere, like branches of Ikea or Starbucks.

All of the bands (I know, I know, but what else can I call them? Know what I'd like to call them … keep it friendly, keep it friendly...) I'll be looking at here started their careers in, and enjoyed their biggest successes throughout the 90s, so qualify as “classic” boybands, purely for that reason: they're seen as the “big guns” of the boyband movement, the ones people remember or revile when they talk about this genre. These are the ones who decided to start butchering some classic songs along the way, as if spinning out their own puerile pap (isn't this article nicely balanced and unbiased?) wasn't enough of an insult to music. These are the ones who most contributed to, even helped create, the cult of the personality, or indeed, the celeb, the ones whose image, love life, actions and fashion mattered a whole lot more to their fans, in general, than their music.

Of course, I don't know too many boyband fans --- at least, none that will admit it! Anyone reading this who is one, I welcome your discourse on the subject, as I am quite figuratively taking your heroes apart here (I say figuratively, as were I to say literally I would be liable to be jailed for murder) and they don't seem to have anyone to defend them. But to be totally fair, I'm not just writing about how bad they are. To be completely frank, I know very little of boyband music, and one of the aims of this feature is to try to understand, if I can, more about what drives these bands and their fans, why they are or were so popular, and where, if anywhere, they deserve a place among music's rich history.

So this time out I have four boybands to concentrate on. I know last time I only did two, but that was the early boybands and there really weren't (mercifully) too many of them at that time. By the nineties they were rampant across the face of the Earth like some incurable disease (sorry!) and therefore there are many more to cover for this period, and were I to decide to do so, I could probably write about nine or ten. But I want to restrict it to four, which is about all I think the universe will stand for at this moment, so these are the ones I'm going to be investigating on the second leg of my voyage to Boybandland.

To be completely fair and impartial, nationality-wise, I'm choosing two American, one British and one Irish --- God how I hate to admit we had boybands, but we did, and two of the bigger ones too! --- and they are Nsync, Backstreet Boys, Take That and Boyzone. I know Westlife probably fit this category too, but as they only recently broke up (who cheered? Oh, it was me!) I plan to hold them back for the third and final part of this treatise. Hell, they're pretty much carbon copies of each other anyway! Now, now, no pre-judging... what am I saying? I've already prejudged all these bands, and rightly so. They've made my life hell, polluting the airwaves for nigh-on thirty years now. But the idea is to see if I can scrape off the gloss and the surface paint, peel back the layers (if there are any) and look beneath the surface to see what's underneath, if indeed anything is, or if these bands are all as empty, vacuous and pointless as I believe they are.

As the wind sighs in the sails of our ship and the ancient timbers creak in protest (hey, I could only afford passage on an old tub! I'm not made of money, you know: who do you think is paying for this expedition? Yeah, you're talkin' to him!) I can begin to make out the misty coastline of my new destination, Terra Permusica Major, which roughly translates to “Greater Boybandland”.
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As the old schooner begins the slow approach into the harbour, I consult my travel guide and learn that Greater Boybandland --- usually referred to as GBBL --- is basically broken into four main areas, regions or countries: no-one is quite sure what category they fall into, and the governmental structure around these parts is, shall we say, fluid and changeable. But for my purposes I'll refer to them as kingdoms --- which I don't think they are, but it suits my narrative, and as the whole ethos of the boyband genre is making everything suit your particular plan, that seems appropriate.

The first is the one we head towards, and it's called Chicotania. It is here that the main archive concerning the first successful boyband since New Kids on the Block (and indeed, the most successful in terms of sales of all time, with over 130 million records sold), the Backstreet Boys, is located, and here where I will learn what I need to know for my article. In Chicotania I will sample (shudder!) the music of these young guns of their time, and examine their phenomenon, try to work out what it was about them that made them so successful, almost ridiculously so. They still exist today.

Later I will head east, to the kingdom of New Southland, where I will research the other big American boyband of the time, the weirdly-named Nsync, then it's a three-day train journey to the very southernmost tip of this country to Tha'Takken, to read about and listen to the first big example of this genre to pop up outside the US. Finally, I will take a relatively short busride back north to Boyzeire, a much smaller realm which houses the Early Irish Boyband Archive.

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As I disembark from the ship and head through Customs, I'm almost immediately surrounded by people. These guys are not well-dressed, and seem very much down on their luck. One offers to sell me a “genuine” Fender Strat for the price of a cup of tea. I politely refuse, but give him some money. BIG mistake! Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the others crowd in and press upon me as if I were the Messiah and they all looking for miracles. Some wave guitars, some thrust ratty pieces of paper purposefully in my face, with comments like “Look man, I just need someone to record this song, yeah?” or “If you see Timberlake tell him I wrote this for him”, and other such requests, demands, even threats.

A sudden shout of “Mr. Cowell! Simon Cowell!" rescues me as the wretches all turn their eyes to the left, beginning to move off in the direction indicated, shuffling with the half-desperate, half-hopeful gait of a auditionee for the “X-Factor”, and I turn to behold my saviour. A small, swarthy man with a large heavy moustache and deep, dark eyes, Max will be my guide for the first few weeks of my visit to GBBL, and will ferry me to my first two destinations. I'm eternally grateful to him for rescuing me, though as we stow the bags in the boot and I climb in the passenger seat, I confess I am somewhat bemused as to who the people who had been accosting me are.

“Ah yes, session men.” Max shakes his head gravely. “You have to feel for them. They do all the work, backing the band and playing the music, but they never get any recognition. They're the lowest class around here,” he confides to me, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his contempt for the situation. “Everyone loves The Kids, of course: the boyband members, not to mention their managers and producers. They get all the plaudits. But these guys: you can't not have sympathy for them.” I resist the urge to correct Max in his use of a double-negative, and hold my tongue as he expounds further, the tan-coloured Vauxhall Viva clanking and creaking almost as much as the boat that brought me here, as we pull into traffic.

“Time was,” he reminisces, “this country was full of guitarists, drummers, keysmen. They made an honest living, forming bands, gigging, recording. Life was good. Then the boybands came, and they were relegated to the status of second-class citizens. Terrible.” He shakes his head sadly, and for a moment I feel a little selfish as I find myself less concerned with the plight of these out-of-work musicians as I am with Max keeping his eyes on the road ahead. But his grip on the steering wheel is firm, and his eyes scan the twin lanes ahead as he pulls out and passes a large green bus, whose driver, a woman of African origin, flips him the finger as he passes, her pearl-white teeth glinting like jewels in her mouth.

“Terrible”. The last word comes almost four minutes after Max last spoke, and takes me by surprise, but I suppose he has been thinking about the situation of the unemployed musos as he drives. I feel compelled to ask why they don't just move on, and he shakes his head again. “None of them have the sort of funds that would allow them to do that,” he tells me. “Most spent all their money on their instruments, and what they occasionally pick up as session musicians for these upstarts wouldn't come close to what they need for the fare out of here. And even then, where would they go? You came here by sea,” he turns to me, precipitating another flutter of my heart as two motorcyclists zoom by, one on either side, and a police siren (or maybe an ambulance or fire engine) sounds in the distance. Is it getting closer?

“You've seen how far this boyband nonsense stretches. Why, you have to go thousands of miles before you leave the influence behind. I heard you say you have been to Terra Permusica Minor already?”

“What?” I'm a little thrown, as I haven't heard the name before. He sighs.

“No-one uses the old names anymore.” Another disapproving shake of the head. “These days it's called Lesser Boybandland,” he clarifies, “or Early Boybandland, something like that. I prefer the old names. Still, they mean the same thing. But you have been there, yes?”

“Early Boybandland?” I understand now. “Yes, I have. In fact, I came direct from there. Almost four months the crossing took.”

“So. And even that relatively slow and not exactly glamourous form of travel cost you, I have no doubt. And beyond here lies an even worse place, which they now call Future Boybandland, though most of its residents have taken to calling it New Boybandland. The old name,” he confides to me, “is Terra Permusica Ultima --- some fools think it means “ultimate Boybandland”, but it does not. It literally translates as “The last Boybandland”. So there is a very long way to go if you wish to escape the insidious clutches of life in Boybandland”, he concludes, “and going a long way means paying a lot of money. So most of the musos just hang around here, drifting from city to city, realm to realm, staying not too long in one place or the other, always on the lookout for work but seldom finding it. Ah, Scherzattach!” he snaps, and I assume this is some ancient expression of distaste. “Tis a bad hand they've been dealt, and no mistake.”

We continue on in silence for some time, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts, as the highway begins to thin out and more fields and hills become evident, as we obviously move away from the city and towards the outlying country. As my attention begins to drift and my eyes start to close, I suddenly see a huge structure passing by on the right, almost gone before my eyes and brain can properly register its presence. Quickly, I fumble out my camera and snap a picture, looking back as it recedes in the back window, its rapidly diminishing bulk evidence that we are travelling at some speed.

I look at the picture I have taken, having not had enough time to properly take in the huge statue --- for such it seems to have been --- in any detail before we are past it and it's behind us, vanishing rapidly, its configuration becoming less and less visible and discernible as the Viva speeds along, out into the countryside. What I can make out, now that I look at the picture, seems to be the figure of a huge man or manlike form, must be well over twenty feet tall, probably closer to thirty. The man --- if indeed it is a man --- seems to be large and fat, with a sloping, balding forehead and small square spectacles that cover small, squinty eyes. He appears to be dressed in an orange jumpsuit and is standing on something, though I can't quite make out what it is: the speed at which we passed the icon has blurred all but the largest aspect of the form.

I turn to my guide, asking what was that? He shrugs. “Ah yes,” he intones. “Pearlman, one of the most hated figures in Boyband history. A real pariah.” My blank look leads him to explain: I have never heard of this Pearlman of whom he speaks. He goes on. “The statue is one of several, hundreds even. One such stands at the entrance and exit to each major city here in GBBL. It represents the figure of Louis Jay “Lou” Pearlman, who was the creator, if you like, of both Nsync and the Backstreet Boys, and indeed also formed and mentored other boybands and young artistes. The statue depicts him standing in a prison jumpsuit, as you have probably worked out, as he was eventually jailed for mutiple fraud, embezzlement, conspiracy and money laundering offences.”

I have my recording ipod out now and I'm listening eagerly, and taping it all for later transcription and inclusion in my article. “The statue further shows him standing on the prone bodies of five young men, meant to represent neither Nsync nor BSB, but more a symbol of the many artists he cheated and lied to during his career. He swindled both the two big ones, and others, out of hundreds of thousands, or even millions of dollars, and had so many legal cases against him it just wasn't funny. Most got settled out of court, but eventually the weight of his crimes was so unsupportable that he was indicted on federal charges and he's now serving twenty-five to life.”

Max lapses back into silence then, and I ruminate upon the, as I saw it at the time, nefarious Maurice Starr, who also cheated his charges, infamously paying New Edition the princely sum of one dollar thirty-seven cents each for their first world tour! I thought that guy was a scumbag, but my god, Pearlman makes him seem like a saint! Seems no matter where boybands went, sneaky, greedy and crooked managers and promoters followed, like bodylice or bands of marauding lawyers. They were everywhere!

After a while I begin to nod off, as the sun starts to slip behind the darkening hills and the night air turns cold. The ancient Vauxhall is not air-conditioned, but then, I come from Ireland, where most of the cars are not, and anyway it's seldom warm enough to merit such technology. I am, however, glad when Max turns on the heater: it seems nights in GBBL can be damn cold!

I listen to the steady click of the car's engine as we travel along the country roads into what is fast becoming night, and I allow my eyes to slide shut, as I contemplate the work that awaits me in the morning.

It's well past two in the morning when the car finally bumps to a halt, and Max shakes me awake, advising me we have arrived. The hotel is not the most glamorous, but it's not a fleapit either: I had and have limited funds, but I refuse to stay anywhere that inserts an extra letter into hotel, making it a hostel. Hostage, more like! So it's a two-star at best, but at least I can be reasonably confident that breakfast at the “Millennium” --- named, I'm informed, for Backstreet Boys' third and most successful album --- won't have to be shared with any bedbugs or cockroaches. I hope.

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Yes! Finally, those damn cannibals get a taste (oops!) of their own medicine. See how YOU like it, pal!

I awake in the morning, refreshed and with a new sense of purpose. I take a little time to look around and note that my surroundings are very New York skyline-like. Despite the two boybands who will form the first part of my research here in the north of the country being from Florida, I see little evidence of blue seas and condos. Instead there are skyscrapers reaching up into smog-choked skies, fleets of yellow taxicabs haring along the roads in tightly-knit packs like metal wolves, and the sounds of traffic, police sirens and alarms fills the air. When this place was built, they obviously had a very stylised idea of America in general, and this is the impression they have left here.

I leave the hotel and head down towards the library, where I'm about to begin my investigation into the multi-million-selling phenomenon that is one of the first truly “great” (I use the word advisedly) boybands, America's own Backstreet Boys.
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As we've already learned, boybands are not formed, they're created. In the eighties it was Maurice Starr who was the Godfather, with the likes of New Edition and later New Kids on the Block on his resume. Going towards the nineties this position of power was taken over by one Lou Pearlman, who we have met in statue form on the way here. A man who began his career in aviation (and made a mess of that, going bankrupt) he would finish it in pokey, having cheated successive boybands and other artistes he managed out of millions of dollars, perpetuating one of the world's largest ponzi schemes, and falling foul of everyone from the Better Business Bureau to the federal government.

But back in 1992 he had placed an ad for a new band to take up the reins dropped by the aforementioned two bands from Starr's stable, and fancying himself as the new Starr, wanted to manage and produce boybands that would make him rich and powerful. Unlike Starr, he never seemed to have any real interest in the music, beyond what it would bring in in terms of cold hard cash. He was not a musician, and did not come from a musical background, despite having Art Garfunkel as a cousin. Pearlman's talent, it would become clear, lay not in music but in cheating people out of their hard-earned, setting up phantom companies and selling stock in them, and doing anything he could to make a dishonest buck.

Having already decided to form a group, Howie Dorough, A.J. McLean and Nick Carter had hooked up with cousins Kevin Richardson and Brian Littrell. Seeing Pearlman's ad they auditioned for him and won the contest, releasing their first single the next year. Despite the tough, street-sounding name of the band, it was in fact chosen by Pearlman, who decided to name the band after a market in Orlando, the Backstreet flea market. How's that for shattering your illusions? Just as well they weren't from Ireland, or they might have been called Moore Street or The Liberties! Anyhow, their first single was not exactly a resounding success, but moreso in Europe, where they were to have their biggest initial successes, leading to their touring schedule being mostly concentrated on the likes of Germany, Holland, France and Switzerland. Their first album, imaginatively self-titled, followed in 1996.

Backstreet Boys --- Backstreet Boys --- 1996 (Jive)
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Originally released only in Europe and a few other territories, due to the less than meteoric initial rise of the band in their native USA --- that would follow later --- their debut album was later released, under the same name but bearing tracks from this plus some from their followup, in the US. For handiness' sake though, for the purposes of this article we're considering the release of this album as their official first, with “Backstreet's back” their second, and then on to the third in “Millennium”, and so on.

Not that surprisingly for a boyband album, it opens with close-harmony singing, which in itself is not too bad, then the handclap beats and funky guitars and keys cut in, and a disco/dance beat unleashes “We've got it goin' on”, which incidentally was also their first single, released before the album came out. There are some pretty cool trumpets too, though as is usual with boyband albums all attention is focussed on the singers, and the musicians --- without whom these guys would be little more than acapella singers : G4, anyone? --- get little or no recognition. But whoever they are they're good at what they do.

It's not long before we hear the familiar mainstay of the boyband, the digital piano, as “Anywhere for you” becomes the first ballad, though without question not the last. As it goes, it has to be said it's not a bad song, though it would become subsumed among the generic lovesongs that BSB would shovel out by the double fistful as they tightened their stranglehold on the charts, and pried open more teenage girls' --- purses! I was going to say purses, you dirty --- on their rapid climb to the top. It's pointless trying to discover who is singing any one song (and anyway I don't care) as they all pretty much sound the same to me, and I also don't think it's important or germane to the issue, so I won't be giving you that information, as I don't have it, nor do I intend to look for it.

Back to the dance numbers then, with another close-harmony acapella intro as “Get down (You're the one for me)” assaults the aural senses. Even more handclap beats, stabbing synth chords and warbly keyboards, and a song that no doubt featured one of their many clever dance routines. With lyrics like ”You're so fine/ Gonna make you mine” you know what to expect, but it's still a little of a nasty shock when they start rapping! Oh no! Just when I thought I could stand no more! There is, however, to be completely fair to them, a nice slow bit in the middle, but it's nowhere near enough to save this piece of garbage.

Much better is the soul/gospel oriented ballad “I'll never break your heart”, sounding a little too close to Boys II Men's “I'll make love to you” for me, but then, most of these songs sound the same --- stop it! Be professional! Make an effort! Okay then, I will, but the comparison stands. Whose was first? Let's see... Boys II Men's effort was 1993, so these guys could be accused of copying, or at least taking elements of the melody from “I'll make love to you”. Hmm. Yeah, it's really not that bad a song, and best of all there's no rap in it! Nice strings arrangement on the song too.

Next up is “Quit playing games with my heart”, a slower, less dancy number but still with those ubiquitous handclaps and some nice laidback keyboards. It's slow enough to qualify as a ballad, so let's call it the first ballad on the album. Another thing that leaves my eyebrows completely unraised is that not one song on this album is written by, or has any input from, any of the boys, and with a very few exceptions, that's the pattern throughout their career. I can't claim to know any of the many writers they employ on the album (or rather, that Pearlman presumably uses), but they may be well-known in pop circles. One thing is clear though: of the five producers of the album, four of them are involved in at least some of the songs.

More dance nonsense with “Boys will be boys”, which (and again, sorry for the silly comparisons but) sounds similar to Sabrina's “Boys boys boys”, and that's going all the way back to 1987, so there's no place to hide with that one, guys! Mind you, that's about the only thing of note on this generic dance tune. Next! Well, "Just to be close to you" is a sort of half-ballad, half-rap, not a bad song with some nice vocal harmonies, heavier drumming that almost seems to avoid the everpresent handclaps, then “I wanna be with you” ramps up the tempo with a curiously ABBA-style opening and then some pretty solid horns, a dance beat but ultimately I'd classify this as another mostly empty song.

Some serious digital piano heralds the return of the handclaps for “Every time I close my eyes”, and really the best thing I can say about this is that it comes in as one of the shorter tracks on the album. Not so “Darlin'”, which runs for an agonising five and a half minutes, a really twee ballad with a totally annoying spoken opening in which one of the guys “talks to his lady”. Oh pass the sickbag! These guys must have been laughing all the way to … Pearlman's bank account. Yeah, sorry, forgot that. They got ripped off bigstyle didn't they? Well, I'm not unsympathetic, but I reckon they made up for it in later years. Not exactly on the breadline now, are they?

Still, terrible as that song was, the worryingly-titled “Let's have a party” doesn't hold any big surprises, specially with its opening line ”All I wanna know/ Is where the party at?” Has no-one heard of apostrophes anymore? Couldn't last through this one, sorry, and then we're onto “Roll with it” --- no, not the Oasis song. Another semi-ballad/dance/pop tune, ah hell, these all sound the same to me. Nothing special about this. And the album finishes on another generic, annoying dance number, “Nobody but you”, leaving me to wonder how I'm going to make it through, what, four of their seven (to date, with a new one due this year, Lord help us!) albums? Maybe if I call in sick...?

Then I remember: there's nowhere to call in sick to. This is my project, my decision, and come hell or high water, I have to see it through to the end. But it's going to take a hell of a lot of courage and self-discipline, and I may even take up smoking before it's done...

TRACKLISTING

1. We've got it goin' on
2. Anywhere for you
3. Get down (You're the one for me)
4. I'll never break your heart
5. Quit playing games with my heart
6. Boys will be boys
7. Just to be close to you
8. I wanna be with you
9. Every time I close my eyes
10. Darlin'
11. Let's have a party
12. Roll with it
13. Nobody but you


As if I wasn't already annoyed enough with the whole boyband thing, Backstreet Boys are giving me a headache, not surprisingly with their music (though that's bad too) but with the insane double-releases and half-releases of their first two albums, to suit the almighty American market! I've already discovered that I accidentally downloaded the American release of their debut, which is essentially half the tracks that were on the European one AND half from the proper version of this album, which was a pain and necessitated much You-Tubing. Now I find the same holds true for my version of this, ostensibly their second album but in the USA their first, as above. So now I have an album with tracks on it I don't need, and without ones I do.

So off to bloody YouTube I go! Again! Not to mention that some of them seem to be Windows Protected files which won't bloody play unless I download a licence! GAAAH! WHY am I doing this??? And can someone please explain to me how one song on an album can be protected content, while the rest is not? RRAAWWWGGH! HULK... SMASH! Or something....

Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...
Backstreet's Back --- Backstreet Boys --- 1997 (Jive)
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Okay, now I've had a cup of tea and a lie down, let's start the review. Taking, as I intend, the European, or “proper” release of “Backstreet's back”, the second album from the Backstreet Boys, it opens with the title track, which everyone knows: loud, dancy, pounding rhythms and a rather annoyingly catchy tune that ended up being their first big hit, at least in the US. Subtitled (or indeed prefixed) “Everybody”, it's well known and became their signature song, unsurprisingly. It's followed by another big hit, “As long as you love me”, a sort of semi-ballad, and it's not puke-inducing, though I've heard a lot better. More handclaps, some okay piano --- well, come on, be fair: some pretty good piano --- and a relatively decent lyric, if a little simplistic and vacuous, but let's be honest here: we're not expecting any deep themes or subject matter from these guys are we? Songs about dancing, love, girls, nights out: these are going to be the main fodder for their music, and I guess that's fair enough. Play to your strengths is, after all, good advice in just about any situation.

Nice bit of guitar in “All I have to give”, which seems to be yet another ballad, and again, this is no surprise. BSB would carve out a career based around a mixture of slushy love songs and dance routines. This song, as it turns out, was written by Full Force, the first time the boys would turn to an established band to write a song for them. Serious dance beats and Art-of-Noise-style synth on “That's the way I like it”, with some half-decent keyboard melodies, then we're back to ballads for “10,000 promises”, which I grudgingly admit is not too bad. To be fair, when BSB do ballads they generally do them well, and they became one of the cornerstones, not only of their success, but that of every boyband that followed. Think about it: if you're a fan, how many of your favourite songs by your favourite boyband can you name that aren't ballads? There's another one on the way in “Like a child”, and yeah, again, it's quite nice, digital piano and guitar meshing nicely with some understated percussion, and the voices are almost soothing. Oh my God! Am I becoming a fan? Am I … am I.... CHANGING?

No, let there be no panic! Normal service is restored with “Hey Mr. DJ (Keep playing that song)”, another sub-dance filler with really (and I mean really) annoying synth-pops running through it. Get me out of here, now! Their first cover song comes with PM Dawn's rather nice “Set adrift on memory bliss”, which, even with the annoying raps I can quite enjoy. To a point. Another first, the first song written by a member of the band, “That's what she said” is not a bad effort from Brian Littrell, who writes the song solo. Another ballad, yes, but then what do you expect? Gotta give the guy credit: none of the others put themselves out on a limb creatively like this, and he does quite well. Nice arrangement too, with some violin and cello, soft percussion and acoustic guitar.

Of course it can't last, and “If you want it to be good girl (Get yourself a bad boy)”, possibly the longest title for a track I've seen since Meat Loaf's “Good girls go to Heaven (Bad girls go everywhere)” lives up to the limited, banal promise of its title, another dancy, peurile, macho piece of nonsense. It's left to the rather lovely “If I don't have you” to end things in style, with a slow, soul ballad that recalls their “I'll never break your heart” from the debut album, but is a very decent closer.

The whole US/European thing has bugged the hell out of me, but I think after this they kissed and made up, and all the albums from here on in were released in the same format with basically the same track listing. I certainly hope so, as I can't go through this again!

TRACKLISTING

1. Everybody (Backstreet's back)
2. As long as you love me
3. All I have to give
4. That's the way I like it
5. 10,000 promises
6. Like a child
7. Hey Mr. DJ (Keep playin' this song)
8. Set adrift on memory bliss
9. That's what she said
10. If you want it to be good girl (Get yourself a bad boy)
11. If I don't have you

It's seldom I go for three album releases in a row, especially when the band in question has a lot more to choose from: I like to cherry-pick from their catalogue, to get a good idea of how/if they've developed as a band, or if their debut, for instance, differs very widely from their latest, or last album. I like to see what, if any, influences have found their way into their music over the years and if they've experimented or tried other things at all.

But the first three albums from Backstreet Boys all seem to be very much tied in with their sudden success, so I'm going to have to review them all. After this there's only one other I'm going to be able to stomach, so we'll try and take one from later in their career. Right now, it's on to album number three, and the one that broke them wide open commercially, on both sides of the Atlantic.

Millennium --- Backstreet Boys --- 1999 (Jive)
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Although only seen as the second BSB album in the US, this was in fact their third release, and with the twenty-first century charging up behind them like an unstoppable locomotive, perhaps the title was well chosen. Perhaps it would, retrospectively, also refer to the millions of units the album would shift. At any rate, it opens with “Larger than life”, with some annoying synth sounds, laughter and a dancy uptempo number to carry on where “Backstreet's back” left off (in terms of opening tracks), with Brian Littrell again trying his hand at writing, though this time with two of the established writers, Max Martin and Kristian Lundin. Hard to see his input into this song, as it's pretty generic, but probably went down well with the fans. It's one of those many “empowering” songs BSB and other boybands would flood their albums with, telling their fans basically that they could control their own destiny, which is a bit ironic as the fans were basically being told what to like by the band and their label.

Their biggest ever single is next, and there's no place for Littrell in “I want it that way”, a mid-paced ballad with those damnable handclaps back again! It's pretty insipid, but then you can say that of a lot of BSB's work, indeed a lot of Westlife, Take That and any other boyband you care to name. The boys seem to have changed their “bad boy” image for this album, pictured on the album sleeve in immaculate white outfits, as if they're some sort of angels or ministers of some order. The songs reflect this new image too, with none of the “rock the house”/”Where's the party” type that populated the first two albums, and more love songs and restrained themes.

“Show me the meaning of being lonely” is another ballad, and indeed another hit single, which perfectly suits their admittedly excellent close-harmony singing, some nice Spanish guitar giving the tune a bit of class, and I'm glad to say that for once the players get credited this time round, though in fairness there are so many guitarists it's hard to know who's playing on what. Good that they get credit though, as they certainly deserve it. Producer and songwriter-par-excellence Robert John “Mutt” Lange lends his expertise to “It's got to be you”, earning my undying enmity for squandering his considerable talents on such a throwaway piece of cr.. well, it's pretty formulaic, is what I'm saying.

Beautiful piano intro to “I need you tonight” helps me to push the ugly memory of the previous track to the back of my mind, and it's another lovely ballad, and well sung it has to be said, while there are two songs whose title begins with the word “don't” to follow, the first being “Don't want you back”, another dancefloor filler, with some hard percussion and some funky guitar, nice stride piano, a song which tries hard but fails to be a rocker, then “Don't wanna lose you now” is not a cover of the Gloria Estefan ballad, though it is again a ballad. Littrell and Max Martin collaborate again, for the second time on this album and the third effort by the BSB singer, on “The one”, which starts in a balladic vein but quickly becomes what I think I'm going to have to term a “dancer” for the rest of these reviews. Not too bad for him, it made it to be released as a single. In fairness, it has a certain rock, or at least AOR edge to it, making it less annoying than previous uptempo songs from these guys, and with a little polish and a few more guitars it could even work for the likes of Bryan Adams or Richard Marx. Maybe.

Not to be outdone by his fellow Backstreet Boy, Kevin Richardson (doesn't he play for Sunderland? No? No, you're right, that's Kieran. Oh well...) tries his own hand at songwriting when he contributes to “Back to your heart”, which as you might expect is another slushy ballad, with some really nice acoustic guitar and the always-waiting digital piano backed by some solid keyboards and in fairness some quite effective vocal harmonies. Again, for a first effort it's not at all bad, even if he didn't strike out on his own like Littrell did. Another ballad (yeah, get used to it), “Spanish eyes” is certainly a title that's been used before, but for what it is it does its job, with some tasteful guitar and castanets, not surprisingly, a nice orchestral arrangement filling out the melody. Not too bad at all.

And the ballads keep coming, in a veritable tsunami of slush and sugar, a wall of digital piano and acoustic guitar and soft percussion. “No-one else comes close” is, again, a nice little tune, but the problem with having so many ballads on an album is that the really good ones start to merge with the not so good, and it's hard to remember a good track: by now it's all sort of blended into one pulpy, sugary mass surrounded by close-harmony singing and handclaps. And undeterred by this, we finish on yet another ballad, a final stab at writing for Brian Littrell, on “The perfect fan”. Don't think they're talking about the kind you use to keep yourself cool, either.

As I said, there's a definite change of direction for Backstreet Boys on this album. Perhaps realising that they were making it big, and about to make it bigger, they ditched the “bad boy/rebel” image and reinvented themselves (or were reinvented) as clean-cut, pure and safe, the kind of band a teenage girl's mother would approve of her daughter being into. The music backs this up, with no hard-edged or risky songs, no real references to things like partying all night or “getting a bad boy”. In ways, on this album it would appear that Backstreet Boys grew up, possibly becoming Backstreet Men...

TRACKLISTING

1. Larger than life
2. I want it that way
3. Show me the meaning of being lonely
4. It's gotta be you
5. I need you tonight
6. Don't want you back
7. Don't wanna lose you now
8. The one
9. Back to your heart
10. Spanish eyes
11. No-one else comes close
12. The perfect fan

And so we leap all the way forward to 2007, where their sixth album would be the first not to feature Kevin Richardson, who had left to pursue other interests (no, not to join Sunderland Football Club! I already made it clear that was Kieran!) but would temporarily rejoin the band in 2011, with a possibility of the move being made permanent, as he was never replaced. The album features a lot more songs penned by the boys, and is minus the participation of longtime songwriters Max Martin and Kristian Lundin.

Unbreakable --- Backstreet Boys --- 2009 (Jive)
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It opens, interestingly, with less than a minute of acapella singing, which goes under the (admittedly imaginative) title of “Intro”, then kicks into “Everything but mine”, a dancer with a pretty high tempo, and the first time I've heard them use my least favourite music tool ever, the vocoder. Why can't people just sing in their own voices? Anyway, it's got a hard enough edge to it, almost veering this side of rock, though not quite. The handclaps are there again, but the guitars are harder, the drumming a little more powerful. As inevitable as the sunrise or revelations of a politician's expenses scandal, the first ballad comes in the shape of “Inconsolable”, though in fairness it kicks up a little within about a minute and becomes a kind of mid-paced track, with a little nod to Bruce Hornsby, particularly in the piano work.

So the first ballad proper then is “Something that I already know”, or is it? It also ramps up pretty soon after starting (hey, I don't know these songs! Don't blame me!) with something like a Kelly Clarkson sound, and I have to admit this album is less dance/pop and more towards the pop/rock side of things. I still wouldn't listen to it in a fit, of course, but of the four I've reviewed now, this is far and away the one I'd be least embarrassed to be discovered listening to, which is about the best compliment I can pay the Backstreet Boys.

I must admit, I never thought I'd say this about a BSB album, but, like, where are the ballads? Well, “Helpless when she smiles” sounds like it may fit the bill, though I'm getting a little wary of these songs that start slow and then suddenly, for want of a better phrase and I'm aware it's a contradiction in terms, rock out. But this one seems to be a true ballad. Nice bit of electric guitar just there, and a very pleasant piano melody running through the song.

It's a hard thing for an old rocker to admit, but you know, some of the ballads on these albums could possibly end up finding their way onto one of my playlists in the future. Shh! Just don't tell anyone ok? I have a reputation to maintain! Dammit, I've always liked a good slow song, and I must admit these guys have all but cornered the market there. “Any other way” is not a ballad, a more upbeat, uptempo track with a sort of ABBA-like keyboard hook (or could be strings possibly), then the first (other than the opener) song the guys collaborate on is next. “One in a million” sounds like it may be heading back in the direction of the original albums, too many damn handclaps and those vocoders again. Grr! They try again with “Panic”, but it's more of the same really, with the addition of a quasi-reggae beat. Not winning any friends round here, guys!

Perhaps they'd be better to leave the songwriting to the professionals, as “You can let go”, with its semi-country melody, nice acoustic guitar and violins is much better, and they have no input into that, nor indeed into “Trouble is”, which with its again country-style guitar and rhythms balances back out the good with the bad. Nice bit of rock guitar in there too, tinging the song with a certain AOR feeling. Yeah, far better. Stick to singing guys, and leave the writing to those who make a living from it. Harsh? Maybe, but two bad songs in a row tells its own story.

There's some guest writing from one of the members of our next boyband to be reviewed, as JC Chasez from Nsync helps pen "Treat me right", but despite (or perhaps because of) his input, the quality level dips sharply for this song, then screams right back up to the summit for “Love will keep you up all night”, a beautiful piano ballad which benefits from the lack of their sticky fingers on the writing. The boys are also kept away from “Unmistakable”, another nice acoustic ballad that unfortunately suffers from vocoder overload and handclap fever, and I would say the writers managed to make a mess of this without the Backstreet Boys getting involved, though as I listen to it it does start to get a little better, and I'll revise my original impression of this. It's actually quite good: while not in the same league as “You can let go” or indeed “Helpless when she smiles”, it's a decent enough song.

The lads are back then to finish things off with “Unsuspecting Sunday afternoon”, a sort of acoustic coda and followup to the opener, some nice orchestral arrangements adding to the song and filling it out nicely, bringing the album to a pretty powerful and ultimately satisfying conclusion.

Like I say, of the four of the Backstreet Boys', so far, seven albums (a new one is due this year) this is the one that I've hated reviewing the least. It betrays a leaning towards a certain harder, almost rockier sound, and though they'll always be the band teenage (and older) girls (and probably boys too, can't be that sexist) dance to, they do seem to be growing up, from their change of image on 1999's “Millennium” to this album (though I haven't listened to the ones in between), and their music seems to be growing with them. Whether they wish to shake the boyband tag or not I don't know, but on this album they manage to come quite close.

TRACKLISTING

1. Intro
2. Everything but mine
3. Inconsolable
4. Something that I already know
5. Helpless when she smiles
6. Any other way
7. One in a million
8. Panic
9. You can let go
10. Trouble is
11. Treat me right
12. Love will keep you up all night
13. Unmistakable
14. Unsuspecting Sunday afternoon

So that's the Backstreet Boys well and truly catalogued, and as I switch off the viewer and power down my laptop for the night, I think about the impression this band has made on me as my footsteps echo loudly on the flagstones of the archive. The curator waves almost absent-mindedly to me: I've been here for the last week or so, going through the wealth of information on Backstreet Boys, watching videos, interviews, live performances and of course listening to their music and researching their career.

I always hated them, like I hate all boybands. Well, not hate really: there's little I truly hate. But I've cursed and reviled them for the insidious way they've taken over the charts and the image they've presented to the world of what a band should --- or should not --- be. But despite myself, the more I listen to and learn about these boybands, the less I dislike them. I'm never going to be a fan, that's for sure, but at least now I know the stories behind them, and it makes it a little easier to perhaps understand them, which was after all my intention when I began this series, way back in November of last year.

Back at the hotel, I thumb my mobile and tell Max I'll need him to drive me tomorrow. My research here in Chicotania is over, and it's time to move on to New Southland, to start learning about that other big American boyband, Nsync. I can hardly wait, but I do wonder if my opinion of them will change in the same way it's (kind of) changed regarding the Backstreet Boys? Well, tomorrow we'll start out on our journey and I'll have a chance to find out. For now, at this moment, exhausted and my brain exploding with facts, figures and dancing boys, there's only one thing I need, and that's sleep.

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Refreshed and with a somewhat clearer head, I rise at 7am the next day, to the sound of the telephone ringing as the front desk informs me my taxi has arrived. Finishing my packing and paying my bill, I head outside to meet Max, who is now sporting a just-started beard, and looks like some sort of Mexican revolutionary! We're soon underway; the trip to our next destination will be an overnight one, and we're scheduled to arrive at New Southland at approximately 10am the next day. Adhering to the laws of the land, Max will of course be resting during the almost twenty-hour drive, so we may in fact be later arriving at our destination than expected, but it's best not to fall foul of the police around here, or indeed anywhere.

The next subject for my article is Nsync, who I read as we drive got their name when the mother of one of the members noted how in synch(ronisation) their voices were. There's also something about the last letter of each of the bandmembers' first names spelling out the band name, but I tend to put less stock in that. In contrast to the Backstreet Boys, Nsync seem not to have started out by auditioning for a competition, “American Idol” style, but with the clear intention of starting up a band, at least as far as founder member Chris Kirkpatrick was concerned. He met with our old friend, jailbird Lou Pearlman, who helped him put the band together and financed it.

Surprisingly perhaps, it seems Nsync hit the scene at about the same time as their genre-mates, Backstreet Boys, with only one year in between each's debut album. Pearlman was obviously getting greedy, or indeed greedier! Perhaps he was already anticipating the boys' discovery of the millions he had been ripping off from them, and was looking for fresh meat. Either way, Nsync ended up with their initial lineup as:

Chris Kirkpatrick
Joey Fatone
JC Chasez
Justin Timberlake
Jason Gallasso

though the last was replaced before the release of their debut by Lance Bass, who remained with the band. Timberlake, who would become the most successful and well-known of the band, going on to have a huge solo career and get into the movie business too, was discovered at, of all places, the Mickey Mouse Club, as indeed was his mate Chasez.

Like the previous boyband featured, it was Germany that first took to and broke Nsync commercially, and it was on the German BMG label that their debut, again self-titled, was released, though later RCA, who took them on, had them record some new, “more airplay-friendly” tracks for the album, dumping some of the ones from the original German release. Oh, those Americans! They sure make the life of a reviewer tough! Unlike Backstreet though, this album features a few cover versions, but again Full Force write one of the songs.

As we drive through the night I slap on the headphones and listen to some of my own music, to prepare me for the endurance test ahead. True, listening to the music of the BSB was not as horrible as I thought it would be (in fairness, I'd rather listen to them than to Venom!) but it's still not my kind of music, and it's difficult to be impartial about it. But that's my job, that's why I'm here and that's what I intend to do.

I'm awoken by the sound of the car door shutting, and realise we've arrived at our halfway point, where we will rest before continuing on, thus satisfying the authorities. It's a small guest house we have stopped outside, and I'm in something of a fog, not entirely sure what time it is as we enter and are shown to our rooms. Max bids me good night and reminds me we need to rise early --- he mentions 4am --- in order to avoid the early morning traffic and make best speed to New Southland. I mumble something in reply and close the door, falling into bed. It seems my head has only hit the pillow when there's a rapping at my door, and I stumble towards it, wondering who the hell is knocking at this time of the night, to find it's Max, annoyingly refreshed-looking and eager for the off. I stare. Surely it's not four already? But it is, and soon we're back on the road.

I blink the sleep out of my eyes, let out an expansive yawn and wonder how it is that my driver remains so alert after what only seems a few hours of sleep? Still, that's his job, I reason, and return to my research.
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When I next look up I'm surprised to see that we're passing another of those Lou Pearlman statues, signalling that we're entering New Southland, and the first thing that hits me is how similar, indeed identical this looks to the place I have just recently left. Is this a sign? Am I to find that the music of Nsync is going to be a carbon copy of that of the Backstreet Boys? While I stand pondering this I become aware that Max is extending his hand in farewell, and so I grasp it and, saying goodbye to Max I head towards my room in the hotel before making my way down to the library to assess the music and career of one of America's oldest “classic” boybands.

Nsync --- Nsync --- 1998 (RCA) (UK Edition)
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Bloody boybands! Or, more correctly, bloody record labels! I've had to make a decision to get at least one of the releases of this, Nsync's debut album, and have gone with the UK version which was released one year after the German version, in 1998. Probably won't make that much difference, but it definitely adds stress to my already tough burden in writing this article. Anyway, this, their first album opens with “Tearing up my heart”, which is an okay pop song, a little more classy than the early uptempo Backstreet Boys material, though still with that annoying dancy beat, and this continues with “I just wanna be with you”, which is the Full Force number for this band, but no huge surprises yet with a generic pop/dance number, a little more restrained than the opener, yes, but not that much different really. So little, in fact, that I've just left the room and come back to hear the third track, “Here we go” has started, and it took me a moment to realise it was a new track! Generic, with a capital G.

The first ballad comes with “For the girl who has everything”, and it's okay but I have to say it's not a patch on some of the better ballads the Backstreet Boys have recorded (never thought I'd say that!), in fact mostly it's quite boring. A little better is “God must have spent a little more time on you”, but it's flat and lacking the sort of emotion I've heard from the BSB, very much inferior to their music. Not impressed so far --- oh, big surprise! Yeah, but I thought the same would be true of the Backstreeters, and yet here I am complimenting them, at least in comparison to Nsync. “You got it” goes back to the tried-and-trusted dance songs, which I guess at least gives the boys a chance to work on their choreography, but otherwise it's pretty empty.

“I need love” confuses by starting out like a ballad, then the thumpy-thumpy drum machine beats cut in and the tempo goes up, and it becomes a fast popster/dancer, with those house-style squealy keyboards running through it. Yeah, I guess it's not too bad, at that. Synthpop stabbing chords, little guitar to speak of, but again very little in the way of emotion. Nsync come across to me as a band who were purely in this to make money, and didn't care too much about their music or the message it got across. Could be wrong, of course, but so far (about halfway through the album) this is the impression I'm getting: the music doesn't really seem to matter.

The same trick is pulled off with “I want you back”, slow ballad-style opening then it kicks into another uptempo dancer, though not as high-energy as the previous. One of the two covers on the album, they do a reasonable job with David Gates' timeless “Everything I own”, even if they do sort of rush through it a little. But it's not a terrible job. Nice orchestral arrangement at least, but it's fairly devoid of the emotion in the original by Bread. It's followed by a ballad, and “I drive myself crazy” is probably about the best I've heard from them up to now: nice understated acoustic guitar, bloody handclaps again (!) and some decent vocal harmonies. Nice. But it's back to the dance nonsense then for “Crazy for you”, before we're into the second cover, another timeless classic, Christopher Cross's elegant “Sailing”.

Well, okay, there's a really nice acapella intro with some sparkling keyboards and then a nice acoustic guitar which stays true to the basic spirit of the original. It gets a little lost along the way though, as the various voices all vie to throw in their two penn'orth and it ends up being something of a mess, which is a pity as it started so well. And we're left with the annoying “Giddy up” to close the first Nsync album, and leave me feeling distinctly unimpressed.

Not to keep harping back to the BSB, but though their debut didn't impress me much either, I have to say it was streets ahead of this. Were you to tie me to a chair, strap explosive to me and force me to choose between the two, at this point there would be no contest at all.

TRACKLISTING

1. Tearin' up my heart
2. I just wanna be with you
3. Here we go
4. For the girl who has everything
5. God must have spent a little more time on you
6. You got it
7. I need love
8. I want you back
9. Everything I own
10. Thinking of you (I drive myself crazy)
11. Crazy for you
12. Sailing
13. Giddy up

Also during 1998 Nsync released a Christmas album, but I have no intention of subjecting either myself or my readers to such a monstrosity, and it will be quite rightly passed over. It would, however, be the last album the boys would record on the RCA label, as shortly after the completion of their debut album, our good friend Lou Pearlman was in trouble again (well, strictly speaking for the first time, as BSB would not sue him for another few years yet, but we've already discussed that battle, so now here we are again) as Nsync accused him of ripping them off and taking half of their earnings, when he was originally only entitled to one-sixth. A legal battle ensued, and after settling out of court with the band Pearlman and Nsync went their separate ways, the boys leaving RCA and signing to Jive Records, becoming labelmates to Backstreet Boys, who had been with them all through their career.

It took them two more years (given the legal proceedings, this is perhaps understandable) to release their second proper album, but by now they were a recognised and popular commodity, and had no problem shifting the units. In fact, the album has gone down in history as the most pre-ordered on Amazon. Thought you might like to know that.

No strings attached --- Nsync --- 2000 (Jive)
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With a lot less ballads than the debut, this was supposed to be Nsync's step into the “big world” of rhythm and blues and pop, leaving behind, to some extent, the teenpop and dance numbers, but it opens with a generic dance song, apparently a stab at Pearlman and his management team, the not-so-subtly titled “Bye bye bye”, and I see no real change in direction here, though in fairness it's only the first track: give the album a chance! Well, it's a little slower and less frenzied than a lot of their faster dance numbers off the debut, while “It's gonna be me” is about the same, though it starts fairly uptempo. A preponderance of synths and drum machines is definitely evident.

“Space cowboy” has a lot of house/hip-hop style rhythms, with a guest vocal from Lisa “Left eye” Lopez (?) and it's very annoying, real club stuff. It's obvious that the only one who's dipping his toe in the songwriting pool at this time is JC Chasez, who you may remember contributed a song to the Backstreet Boys' debut album --- or at least co-wrote it --- and here he has a stab at three of the tracks, though Justin Timberlake is involved in one. That said, this is one of the three Chasez works on, so perhaps not so great an accolade? There's not a lot you can say, or indeed expect, from a song called “Just got paid”, and you get what you, ahem, pay for: a generic dance number with a kind of repeating rap saying (how original!) “Money money money”. Next!

Perhaps they were reading my mind, (er, in the future, yeah...) but the next track is called “It makes me ill”, and though I'm sure it's not meant to be taken that way, yeah, it does. More generic dance. How much more of this can I stand? Annoying popping keyboards, decent piano but that's about it. Can the great Richard Marx save us? Well, it seems that yes, he can. Penned by the writer of such legendary ballads as “Right here waiting” and “Children of the night”, there's a world of difference between the rest of the album (thus far) and “This I promise you”, a tender, perfectly-crafted ballad that absolutely goes down as the best I've heard from Nsync so far, though admittedly that doesn't say much. But if there's a standout on this album, then this is it.

The title track is another on which JC Chasez exhibits his songwriting “talent”, but it's not for me, and I'm just seeing --- with a very few exceptions, well, one --- a constant stream of faceless dance pap going past in an unremarkable, almost unrecognisable wave. At least there's some vaguely interesting hard rock guitar in this, for a short time, but then “Digital get down” brings it all back down to the lowest common denominator again, blasted vocoders! It's a worrying sentiment expressed in the next song, though thankfully time proved them wrong, as “I'll never stop” is more faceless pap, generic dance beats, close-harmony singing with more vocoders, drum machines, you have the picture by now. “Bringin' da noise” doesn't do anything to improve my mood either, and I really can't see where the so-called “transition” from dance to r&b is here: this sounds pretty much the same as the material on the debut. At least BSB tried to change their sound, and with “Millennium”, mostly succeeded.

One more chance for things to improve, maybe, with another powerhouse songwriter getting involved, this time the mighty Diane Warren, who contributes “That's when I'll stop loving you”, a slow, soulful ballad which just oozes class which, as ever, tells. Justin Timberlake's effort comes with “I'll be good for you”, with a sort of seventies soul/motown vibe, lots of heavy synth, snappy bass, not too bad really. And a pretty bad album ends rather well with “I thought she knew”, an acapella ballad which certainly showcases the boys' vocal talent and timing.

As far as a huge departure from their original sound goes, I really don't see it. There are, admittedly, less ballads and they call in some pretty big hitters in terms of songwriting, but for me this is a case of same old same old. Of course, that was what the fans back then wanted, and the album sold in its millions. Never underestimate the buying power of teenage girls!

TRACKLISTING

1. Bye bye bye
2. It's gonna be me
3. Space cowboy
4. Just got paid
5. It makes me ill
6. This I promise you
7. No strings attached
8. Digital get down
9. Bringin' da noise
10. That's when I'll stop loving you
11. I'll be good for you
12. I thought she knew

Their third, and as it turned out, final album was released the next year, featuring a lot more input from the band, with Chasez and Timberlake stepping up their contribution to the songwriting, and even helping produce the album. It was another millions-seller, and spawned a huge tour.

Celebrity --- Nsync --- 2001 (Jive)
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More and more vocoders, god-damn them! “Pop” starts the final Nsync album off more or less in the same vein as the previous, and again it's been hailed as having much more of a hip-hop influence, but as I'm not all that familiar with that genre I can't really say. There are certainly a lot of synth, synth-bass and sampled vocals in use in at least this track, a dancer with funk elements, and what may be I believe what the kids these days call “scratching”? ;) The title track has a little more of a swagger to it, and the lyric seems to tackle the problem of being liked/loved just because you're famous --- aw, the poor darlings! It's got a Paula Abdul/Janet Jackson vibe to it, more scratching and bubbly synth with programmed drum patterns. Both of these tracks feature writing input from Justin Timberlake --- make of that what you will. Personally, I don't think it's a great advertisement for his songwriting talent. Featuring some videogame sounds in the intro, “The game is over” (see what they did there?) is nothing that much different, and the videogame samples, which continue through the track, get very annoying. I'm waiting for a ballad, as they're the only way I can properly comment on Nsync, whose music otherwise seems all very generic and formulaic.

Timberlake has his hand again in the writing of “Girlfriend”, their last ever single and one that got into the very highest echelons in both the US and UK charts, narrowly missing the number one spot in the latter. It's more mid-pace dance stuff though, and nothing particularly different from anything that has gone before. “The two of us” is JC Chasez's second attempt at songwriting on the album, his first being a collaboration on “The game is over”, and here again he teams up with Alex Greggs and Brad Daymond, and the result, to be honest, is not that much better. Pass.

Not getting much love from this album so far, and I haven't even heard one ballad. But hold on: here's some lovely cello introduction to “Gone”, with a nice little soft acoustic guitar, and it seems like we may have our first ballad after all. With Timberlake again involved in the writing, this is a lot better, but we are now halfway through the album, so it'll take a lot to turn this around. Still, this is a good start to build upon. Unfortunately, “Tell me, tell me baby” shatters that hope, with a return to generic pop/dance, and the intentionally supposed to be funny false start is not at all, just comes across (to me) as smug and annoying. Particularly when the song is absolutely nothing to write home about.

A nice sentiment, as far as I'm concerned, “Up against the wall” has me casting about for my gun, but I can't find it. Shame. ;) The absolute genericity of this album of pap has my ire rising by the minute (and my ire really needs to stay on the ground, you know): there's nothing special about it, and again I have to compare Nsync to the Backstreet Boys, with the latter coming up trumps in every case. This album, and this band, epitomise and confirm all I despise about boybands. The lazy, careless songwriting, the willingness to exploit a formula to the nth degree, the lack of any interest in progressing their music or even improving it. Nsync, it would appear, were happy to put out the same rubbish over three albums, and the public ate it all up and asked for more. Thankfully, there was none.

“See right through you” is basically nothing more than a crude excuse for me to laugh at the band again and agree that yes, I do, then there's finally some relief in “Selfish”, the second ballad, and it's miles better than what passes for music on the vast majority of this album. It's nicely constructed, with a soul feel and some tasteful digital piano, some nice breathy synthesisers, and in fairness I have to give some sort of plaudits to Chasez, as he's involved in the writing of this, probably the only other decent track on the album. It of course doesn't last, and we're back to dancing with “Just don't tell me that”, beeping keyboards and drum machines with sampled synth blasts: yeah, we've (YAWN!) heard it all before, guys, too many times.

The legendary Stevie Wonder does his best to pull things back onto some sort of even keel and the album struggles to finish on a high note as he plays harmonica on “Something like you”, which thankfully is another ballad, and very nice, almost Stevie-like in its melody, and something of a triumph for Timberlake, who co-writes it. We close though on “Do your thing”, which is a bright, poppy, and annoying dance tune, and is unfortunately the last thing you're humming (if you're humming) when the album is over.

No, I don't see any signs of progression here: nothing that makes me think these guys could have gone on to change the music they were playing, stretch beyond the limited examples here, and in two other albums. Maybe they didn't want to. They'd made their money, they'd conquered the world. Why buck the winning formula by trying something else? Maybe I just don't understand the boyband ethic, and maybe I never will. All I can say is I'm glad there were only three albums from Nsync that I had to review, but it was three too many.

TRACKLISTING

1. Pop
2. Celebrity
3. The game is over
4. Two of us
5. Gone
6. Girlfriend
7. Tell me, tell me baby
8. Up against the wall
9. See right through you
10. Selfish
11. Just don't tell me that
12. Something like you
13. Do your thing

Although they announced after this album that they were going on hiatus, ie taking a break, Nsync have never managed to get back together (awww!) since the departure of Justin Timberlake, who has of course carved himself out a very successful solo career, first in music and now in film, and with his heavy schedule it seems unlikely we'll be seeing any new material from the band in the foreseeable future.

I personally won't be losing any sleep over that.

Max picks me up at the library and drives me back to my hotel, where we shake hands and wish each other well. Tomorrow I board the train which will take me on a three-day journey south, to the region known as Tak'Thatten, where I will begin my research on probably the biggest and most successful boyband to come out of the United Kingdom, Take That. Max has been a great guide and will always be a friend, but the journey is far out of his legal jurisdiction, and anyway would cost me a fortune!

On the way south I will have plenty of time to ruminate upon what I have learned thus far, and compose my thoughts for the second part of this review. For now, I reiterate my findings that the music I encountered when listening to the Backstreet Boys' catalogue beats that of Nsync into a cocked hat.

If I had a cocked hat...

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It's been a long journey (though comfortable; the railway line here knows this journey is long and can be ardurous, so they go out of their way to make it as pleasant for you as they can --- assuming you can pay, of course) south through Greater Boybandland, and as we've travelled I've occasionally looked up from my research and noted with disapproval the many shanty towns dotted along the route, where guitarists, keyboard players and other session men who have fallen down on their luck eke out a meagre living, perhaps busking in the street for coins, or desperately trying to cash in on long-faded glories. “Hey, I used to play with Boyz II Men” or “I taught the guys from Nsync all they know” are familiar claims around these parts, my guide tells me, and similarly disbelieved, ignored or simply not cared about. Most of these session musicians can lay claim to having played, either on stage or in recording sessions, at least once, with often more than one successful boyband, but it's a familiar story and no-one is impressed, more interested in trying to stay above the poverty line, while some vainly write songs (and often good ones) that nobody here will listen to. Were this a rock town, sure, they could make it big, but all across GBBL, from north to south and from east to west the story is the same: unless you can sing and harmonise and dance, and unless you look and sound pretty, nobody cares.

The guttering lights of each successive shanty town are soon left behind in the dust though. This train does not stop at any of them: there is no need. For anyone who has been lucky enough to have had their services procured by a boyband and is travelling my way, it's a fifty-mile or more trek to the nearest rail station, where shiny new plastic train tickets (one-way only: it's an expensive trip) are clutched in hand like bars of gold, quite literally the lucky musicians' ticket to the big time.

I reflect on the unfairness of it all. There is great talent here, but nobody will give them a chance. Unlike the streets of, say, Chicago, where though the blues are king they'll listen to any music, give anyone a chance, here in GBBL you HAVE to be boyband material to be even listened to. In my time here I've heard guitar solos that would make your hair curl, listened to aspiring rock singers that would make Coverdale or Bon Jovi green with envy, and heard people do things with keyboard, sax and violin that I would not have believed possible. Anywhere else, they would be well on the way to fame and stardom, but not here. Here, the boyband is king, and there is no room for any other type of music.

As day turns to night and the train ploughs on like an arrow into the gathering darkness, I notice that the landscape is changing subtly. The large, clustered skyscrapers I encountered in the north of the country, both in Chicotania and later in New Southland, gradually drop away, being replaced by lower, less cluttered buildings that spread out across the approaching skyline. Hills and meadows are lusher, somehow; greener and more rolling, and there's a certain something in the air that I can't quite put my finger on. Tired, blinking my eyes against the night, I give up trying to figure it out and turn in.

On rising the next morning I notice that cattle begin to appear along the route: sheep and cows mostly, with a few red and green tractors barely visible, chugging along as they till the fields. The sky here, too, is somehow bluer and clearer, fresher, not so smog-choked as was the case further north. As the train hurtles past a small town (village really, it's only a few shops and pubs and houses, with a church and what looks like a cemetery at the far end, almost invisible) I hear a sound I haven't heard for what seems like, and probably is, months now: church bells.

And then it hits me what's different about the landscape here. There's no other word for it, and it explains and indeed ties in with what's happening. The countryside has become more English. We have left behind the Americanised north, with its boybands from Florida and are heading south, into what must be the heartland of the English side of GBBL, where I will encounter bands like Take That and Boyzone. The landscape is changing accordingly, and there is, to quote the old poem, “a little (large) piece of England” that takes up the southern half of this country.

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By the time we reach our destination it's clear that they have, to reverse the quote, builded England in Jerusalem's green and pleasant land. Tak'Thatten is a microcosm of English culture, a sterotypical one to be sure, with people passing by in bowler hats and with umbrellas tucked under their arms or being used as walking sticks, grey tube trains carrying people around the realm, while black taxi cabs honk and jostle for position on overcrowded roads overlooked by huge neon signs promising everything from a cure for headaches to holidays in the sun at rock-bottom prices. There's even a facsimile of Big Ben towering over a mockup of the Houses of Parliament. The sense of mimicry and the tawdriness of it all mirrors what to my mind epitomises boybands, and I shake my head, hailing a black cab to take me to my hotel.

Not long afterwards I'm down in the local archive, reading about and sampling my next target in this article, the most successful British boyband ever, Take That. Again formed by an impresario, this time Nigel Martin-Smith, I believe I may be kinder to these English boys that I have been to their US counterparts, and predecessors. This is mostly due to the fact that I discover that, unlike their cousins across the water (or indeed due north) Take That wrote all their own material. This is quite a revelation to me, as I've come, over the course of the two parts (so far) of this article to expect that the boyband in question is little more than a tool for the producer/manager/promoter, and that he always seems to exercise the tightest of control over his charges, usually making sure writers are drafted in to pen their hit singles, and most of the tracks on their albums. Occasionally, the boys will be allowed write, or participate in the writing of, a few tracks, but by and large these are in the minority.

Take That appear to be different, with all of their material initially written by group founder Gary Barlow, a process that continues right up to the present day. This by itself is enough to make me sit up and take notice, although the fact that they were, ultimately, another manufactured group, created to take advantage of and capitalise upon the success of bands like New Kids on the Block, is disappointing. Bands should grow organically, not be cultivated in a test tube, and they should be primarily concerned with the quality of their music, not satisfying a particular demographic. But, such is the world of the boyband. Perhaps Take That were able to break the rigid, constricting, strangling mould a little. We shall find out.

But first, who exactly are Take That? Well, they were formed by, as you've already heard above, Gary Barlow, and you surely need no introduction to one Robbie Williams, but who make up the rest? Well the full band membership is as below:

Gary Barlow
Robbie Williams
Howard Donald
Jason Orange
Mark Owen

Of the above, only Barlow does anything other than sing; in addition to being the main songwriter for the band, he is also an accomplished pianist.

Take That and party --- Take That --- 1992 (BMG)
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To be honest, it starts off more like a jazz or soul track than a dance one, which I have to say is encouraging. “I found Heaven” is apparently universally hated by the band, so that would give me hope that there is much better to be found on the album, as I quite like this. Boppy, uptempo with a lot of jazz and absolutely no synth stabs or it sounds drum machines. Quite catchy, and indeed was a hit single for them, but one of the very few not written or co-written by Gary Barlow. One of seven of his solo efforts on the album is up next, but “Once you've tasted love” is, in my opinion, far inferior to the opener, with a lot more emphasis on dance rhythms and something akin to the dreaded SAW (Stock/Aitken/Waterman) drumbeat that permeated everything they put out in the eighties, from Rick Astley to Kylie.

Their cover of Tavares' “It only takes a minute” is well removed from the original, almost unrecognisable, very in that Nsync/Backstreet Boys vein, with twiddly, sparkling keyboards and that annoying drumbeat again, another fast dancer, which has my heart sinking. I thought these guys were going to be different, stand out from the pack? Then, all of a sudden, to quote the title of their second album, everything changes with “A million love songs”. Another solo Barlow effort, this finally showcases what an incredible burgeoning talent was there, with a sweet, beautiful ballad that somehow manages to stay just the right side of saccharin and doesn't stick between your teeth. Treading a careful line between formulaic ballad and proper love classic, the track falls easily on the side of the latter, and was to become one of Take That's best known and loved songs, and with good reason.

From the beautiful piano --- played by Barlow himself, affording him another string to his bow, unlike the boybands we've looked at up to now --- and sax opening to the motown-style rhythm, the excellent backing vocals, the tender sentiments familiar to any struggling songwriter as he tries to write a song to the woman he loves, to the breakout sax ending, it has everything. Add to that the fact that Barlow was only fifteen when he wrote this, and you have a song that has been, rightly, voted in some circles as the best ballad of all time. It really is that good, and if there's a turning point in this album, and in my view of Take That, this has to be it.

It's the first of three consecutive Barlow solo offerings, the second of which, “Satisfied”, is a dancy number but not too bad, certainly nothing like the pap we endured listening to Nsync. It's light and breezy, a little throwaway, but then, they can't all be classics like “A million love songs”, can they? The third in this triumvirate is in fact another beautiful ballad, and like many --- almost all --- boybands, Take That would build their career on such ballads, and they would form the bedrock of their music. “I can make it” is nowhere near as good as “A million love songs”, but it's a good ballad, showing again what an emerging writing talent Gary Barlow was at that time.

On the next two, he collaborates with other writers, and it shows. “Do what U like” is a house/trance-influenced boppy uptempo number, sounding more than a little like Wham! It's not surprising that when released as the lead single from the album it utterly failed to chart. “Promises” is not much better, kind of the same sort of thing, then we have another one where Gary goes solo, and it's another superb ballad. “Why can't I wake up with you” features again lovely piano and sweeping synthesiser lines, with a simple, understated vocal and some nice sax parts. He's involved in the last three tracks too, two of which he pens solo again, with “Never want to let you go” being a mid-paced, almost reggae-style track, with some soul influences in the melody, while “Give good feeling” opens on a breathy choral synth, but quickly morphs into another high-energy (I refuse to use the acronym) dance tune, though there are some good ideas in there, and it's not too generic.

I hated their version of Barry Manilow's classic “Could it be magic”, and that position will never change. Although it was a huge breakout hit for them, the song was changed from a tender, passionate and often faltering love song, sometimes unsure and then getting more powerful and dramatic as the piano lends Barry courage and strength and conviction, Take That turned it into a dance number, robbing it of all its emotion, tension and pathos, and reducing it to the level of something to shake one's booty to. I've always hated them for that, and even should this article end up with my having a greater appreciation of their work, that will always be between us, like a love affair that has been forgiven, but never forgotten, always in the background, waiting to be used/accused, ammunition for any future argument.

The album ends on the title track. Whether it would have been better to have ended on Manilow's mangled classic or this I don't know, but I would hate both of them probably equally. As an example of what the band were, or stood for, or were capable of, this is not it. It's a throwaway, easy ending to what is in essence not that bad an album, that doesn't leave me dreading listening to more of their output.

But a better closer would have helped.

TRACKLISTING

1. I found Heaven
2. Once you've tasted love
3. It only takes a minute
4. A million love songs
5. Satisfied
6. I can make it
7. Do what U like
8. Promises
9. Why can't I wake up with you
10. Never want to let you go
11. Give good feeling
12. Could it be magic?
13. Take that and party

Only a year later and they were back with their second album, which would prove to be their breakout one, hitting the number one spot on its release. With songs written almost exclusively by Gary Barlow, it brought Take That to the attention of mainstream music buyers and made them a household name, and one of the most popular, if not the most popular pop bands in the UK, a mantle they would retain till the late nineties.

Everything changes --- Take That --- 1993 (BMG)
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Opening this time with the title track, a soul/disco effort in the mould of bands like Earth, Wind and Fire and the Spinners, it's a mid-paced dancy number with sparkly keyboards (except in ballads, keyboards always tend to sparkle when used in boyband music!) and a nice little bass line, certainly a dancefloor filler, but it was the Gary Barlow-penned “Pray” that gave them their first UK number one, a feat they would repeat three more times with this album. Despite its ballad-like title, it's another mid-paced dancer, though a little slower than the title track, and again retaining the motown/seventies disco keyboard melodies.

“Wasting my time” has a sort of jazz/calypso feel to it, with lots of brass and bongo-like percussion, with a hint of cabaret and just a little shot of Phil Collins to it, then they reignite Dan Hartman's disco classic “Relight my fire”. Never liked this, and Take That don't make me like it any better, but I guess it's a decent version, then the first Barlow ballad comes with “Love ain't here anymore”, slow and swinging with very soul-style vocals, and no doubt the cigarette lighters were out in force when this was played live.

Borrowing a tiny little phrase from Madonna's “Borderline”, I find “If this is love” a little generic, nothing terribly great to write home about, and perhaps it's telling that it's one of only two on the album into which Barlow has no songwriting input. “Whatever you do to me” is a big, brash, ballsy soul rocker, lots of brass and guitar, and works very well. It's followed by “Meaning of love”, which again sounds like it should be a ballad and again isn't, though it is a Barlow song. Sub-disco tripe, I have to say, very disappointing. There's another outing then for “Why can't I wake up with you?”, though it's given a real kick up the arse and turned into an uptempo popper, which personally I think neither works nor was necessary.

“You are the one” opens with strings-like keyboards, then goes into another fairly low quality disco song, quite throwaway I have to say, but all is forgiven with the arrival of another fine ballad, the Barlow-penned “Another crack in my heart”. Or is it? No, scratch that: it's not quite a ballad, and it's nowhere near as good as we know he can write, but at least it's better than the awful “Broken your heart”, another dancy piece of nonsense. Sigh. At least it has a nice keyboard solo. The album closes strongly with one more solo Barlow effort, the lovely ballad “Babe”, but in general I like this album less than the debut, which I have to admit is not something I expected to happen.

TRACKLISTING

1. Everything changes
2. Pray
3. Wasting my time
4. Relight my fire
5. Love ain't here anymore
6. If this is love
7. Whatever you do to me
8. Meaning of love
9. Why can't I wake up with you?
10. You are the one
11. Another crack in my heart
12. Broken your heart
13. Babe

Take That became a four-piece after their third album, when Robbie Williams was faced with an ultimatum by the band: kick the drugs and drink or get out of the band. He chose the latter, and few would have believed that he would stage a huge personal comeback and go on to become one of the highest-grossing solo acts ever, becoming a household name in his own right and a huge star. That, of course, was once he got into rehab and sorted himself out.

The boys, meanwhile, continued on without him, and so it makes sense that we then look at their first album sans Robbie, although to be honest I don't see him as having made a huge contribution to the band while with them: he didn't write any of the songs, he sung some but other than that he didn't look to be the kind of creative force Gary Barlow was, which makes it all the more surprising that Gary's later solo career bombed --- in comparison --- while Robbie's took off like a rocket. And the proof was then seen that, although he had not written any songs for or with Take That, Mister Williams was a dab hand at the old art of penning tunes.

Beautiful world --- Take That --- 2006 (Polydor)
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Although Robbie Williams features on the previous album, 1995's “Nobody else”, he left/was dumped for the tour and did not feature on this album in any capacity. In fact, it would be another four years before he would reunite with the band, though of course by then he had already carved himself a career of his own and become pretty much a superstar, so he wasn't exactly sitting on his hands! “Beautiful world” was released eleven years after the split, and on a new label.

In a major shift in policy, songwriting credits were now given as “Take That”, rather than to Barlow or whoever was writing, but we can probably assume that he was still doing the lion's share of the songwriting. This album is also the first on which every band member sings lead vocals at least once, and indeed the first time Take That used an orchestra in their arrangements.

Right away, there's a HUGE change, with “Reach out” closer to AOR than even pop, never mind dance, This is VERY encouraging! Really sounds like Take That have come of age, and I don't even feel embarrassed listening to this with the volume up loud. What a difference! Total pop/rock sensibility on this track, and you really have to remind yourself that this is the same band that put out such, in comparison, rubbish as “Do what U like”, “Give good feeling” and “Meaning of love”. Not so much a seachange as an oceanchange! Am I getting ahead of myself, overexcited for no reason? Will this quality persist throughout the album, or is this a one-off?

Well, “Patience” is a lovely little acoustic ballad that bears all the hallmarks of a Gary Barlow-penned tune, with some really nice strings sections from the London Session Orchestra, and indeed it was a huge hit single, and certainly keeps the top quality of this album up, while the title track, one of two to feature Howard Donald on lead vocals, is another revelation. I honestly can't express adequately my amazement at how good, so far, this album is, but more, how different it is to at least the first two. This could (and might, at some point) feature in my “Gobsmacked” section. It's certainly knocking me down with a feather!

I can't at this point find anything bad to say. The songs are incredibly well-crafted, the vocal performances are perfect, the instrumentation is mature and well-arranged. Gone are the squeaky keyboards, the thump-thump-thump! rhythm, the annoying dance beats, the vocoder-aided vocals, and the aggravating bubblegum pop themes that damned many of Take That's early songs. I said earlier that Backstreet Boys grew up with their third album “Millennium”, but in comparison to the literal transformation of Take That on this album they're still just messing around. This is, quite simply put, amazing.

Even if there are a few bad tracks later on, I'll be able to forgive them and allow much latitude, so good has the album been so far. And yet, no, “Hold on” is another excellent track, lovely acoustic guitar and the orchestra providing great backup to a song which could happily share the stage with any rock song I know. Featuring one of three lead vocal performances from Mark Owen, it's proving they can all sing when the spotlight is on them, that there are no passengers here. Sorry for all the superlatives, but I am literally floored by how this album has turned out. I in no way expected this, never in a million years. This album could turn me into a fan! I'm quite serious!

I think it's fair to credit John Shanks with at least some of the plaudits, as he co-writes half of the tracks here with the band, and I wonder how much of Gary Barlow is in these songs? A lot, I would think. There's still nothing bad I can (or, at this point, want to) say about this album, as the standouts just keep coming, with “Like I never loved you at all” another acoustic ballad with beautiful orchestral arrangement, and a passionate and powerful vocal from Gary. There's a real sense of maturity, of growing, learning and developing running through this album, almost as if Take That have done their time as teen idols, and now want to be taken as serious musicians. With this album, they're achieving that without any trouble at all.

Even when the tempo hits up a bit and I fear a dance track, “Shine” is really more a Beatles/Robbie Williams hybrid --- yeah, I've heard this is an ad, that's why it sounds familiar. Very happy, very upbeat and just a joy to listen to. It's Mark back on vocals, then Gary's back for “I'd wait for life”, a tender piano ballad like his best work from the first two albums with the added power of the London Session Orchestra behind him adding punch and emotion to a song already strong enough to I'm sure elicit an approving handshake from the master of the piano ballad, Barry Manilow, and all must surely be forgiven for the murder of “Could it be magic”, years earlier.

I'll tell you how good this album is. On every other one that I've reviewed for the boyband articles, right back to the beginning when I checked out New Edition, I quickly began a process of listening to about half of each track and jumping forward to the next, due to time constraints yes, but mostly because I didn't like what I was hearing, or knew how it was going and didn't look like changing. On this album I've not touched the forward key once, and I'm actually enjoying this so much that when the review process has completed and I have this uploaded, I honestly think --- no, I know --- I will listen to this again for pure pleasure. And I never, ever thought I'd say that about a boyband album. During the course of the reviews I've liked a few ballads, mostly from BSB, and was (am) going to sneak them into some playlists, but until now I had not come across a boyband album I would listen to through in its entireity if I didn't have to. Now, I most certainly will.

“Ain't no sense in love” is another emotional half-ballad, and it's true that the addition of the orchestra has given a majesty and gravitas to the songs on this album, but they can't take full credit. The songs are, to a track, excellent; there are no fillers, there is no (so far!) dancefloor rubbish, and I could not be happier with this album, nor more surprised by it. Mark is back for his swansong with “What you believe in”, great acapella intro and sensitive acoustic guitar in a superb ballad, introspective and extremely emotional, almost a sense of the great Roger Waters in the song --- who could have predicted that august name would be used in a review of a Take That album? Also a sense of ELO about it, especially in the chorus.

Look, this is the surprise of the year so far for me, and the most pleasant too. Not one single bad track so far, not even a weak one, none that I can say well it's okay, the rest are good so we can forgive that one. Every song is holding its own, every song is special, every song is excellent. Unbelievable. Beautiful strings ending, then the last vocal from Howard Donald takes “Mancunian Way” as the album heads towards its conclusion, and I'm actually sorry: I could keep listening to music like this for hours. More Beatles-like vibes in this song, more great guitar and piano, and although Howard would not be my favourite vocalist, (I feel he was much better on the title track), he does a decent enough job here. More ELO-style influences right at the end, and someone's child I must assume takes the last few words. Cute.

A folk tune on a Take That album? Well, at this stage I'm ready to believe anything, and Jason Orange's one and only lead vocal really suits “Wooden boat”, taking the evolution of the band to its fullest degree. Play this to someone and don't tell them who it is, you can be sure they won't have a clue. Technically the last track on the album, there's a “hidden track” if you wait (and whereas before I would have groaned and avoided such a thing, I'm eager to hear more now), with “Butterfly” coming in over one minute after “Wooden boat” has ended. It's another acoustic ballad, I'm glad to say, and features Gary on vocals, wrapping things up in fine style.

Not one single bad track. Let me repeat that: not one single bad track. Not even a weak or so-so one. The songs in fact on this album are all so good that I really can't pick a standout, and would say they're all standouts. Add in the wonderful “Rule the world”, which we all know from the film “Stardust” and its huge success in the charts, a track which was not included on the original CD and is not on my copy, and you have not only the most complete, successful and enjoyable Take That album, but the very best example of a boyband transcending their origins and breaking out of the constricting bonds that held them for a decade, and like the butterfly in the closer, struggling from the coccoon and spreading their wings, taking to the sky joyfully, a beautiful and totally new and different creature altogether.

TRACKLISTING

1. Reach out
2. Patience
3. Beautiful world
4. Hold on
5. Like I never loved you at all
6. Shine
7. I'd wait for life
8. Ain't no sense in love
9. What you believe in
10. Mancunian way
11. Wooden boat
12. Butterfly (hidden track)

After this, well, this epiphany, this revelation, I feel the need to quickly run outside the echoing halls of the archive, out into the morning sunshine and jump up and down, punching my fists in the air and shouting “YESSS!” People look at me askance, but I don't care. This is the motherlode, this is what I had hoped to discover by plunging into the murky world of boyband music, the pearl among the swine, the rose among the thorns. This gives me hope. Hard on the heels of that hope though is the fear that perhaps this is a one-off, that after this Take That went back to their old format, and that this album would have to stand as the only example of what they could truly achieve once the chains were off.

I really hope that's not the case, but in any event we will find out, as the last album to be reviewed is their, as it were, comeback album, wherein they reunited with Robbie Williams. Once I calm down and wipe this big silly grin off my face, I'll be diving into that.

Okay, I'm ready now. Back to the archive I go, with a spring in my step that has not been evident for several months now, not since I began this journey.

After fifteen years and two albums as a four-piece, Take That were reunited with original band member Robbie Williams in 2010. Robbie had of course gone on to his own superstardom, having hit albums and singles, and selling out huge venues, but in 2010 he returned to the fold, to where it all began, and the album that resulted was the first to feature the original five-man lineup since 1995.

Progress ---- Take That --- 2010 (Polydor)
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It opens encouragingly, with a nice atmospheric synth, then the familiar voice of Robbie Williams starts the vocal on “The flood”, and really he's never sounded better. Gary joins him as the song, er, progresses, and to be honest it's great, a real follow-on from the last album above I listened to, even though there was one in between I didn't review. I would agree with many critics though that although this (and possibly others on the album) is a great track, it has much more of Robbie's own solo feel on it than that of the band. But I'm not complaining.

Lovely strings from the London Studio Orchestra this time, and there's again a great sense of maturity about this song, hard to believe it comes from the same stable as “Everything changes” et al. I don't know how much Robbie was involved in the writing on this album, but as I say, this track has his signature stamped all over it. “SOS” starts off with some frenetic piano then breaks into a bass-driven pop/rock song that even owes a little to the Clash, would you believe? This features Mark Owen duetting this time with Robbie, and although it has disco/dance overtones, it's nothing like some of their earlier dance material; very urgent, passionate and frantic.

Howard Donald joins Robbie and Gary for “Wait”, the first ballad on the album, again given extra weight and meaning thanks to the orchestra. Oh wait, no it's not. Started off that way, but then drum machines and synth kicks in and it's more a funk/dance shuffle, again quite a Robbie Williams type song. In a way, it's a pity he rejoined, as it's now hard to figure out if Take That are continuing the evolution begun on “Beautiful world”, and changing their sound, or if they're just becoming a sort of backing band for Robbie, who it seems was not that involved or to the fore prior to his departure. But now he seems all over this, with the first three tracks at least featuring his distinctive vocal, so it's difficult to separate his own solo work from that of the band.

Indeed, he sings or duets on more than half of the tracks on this album, soloing on one, but the next one doesn't feature him, although the title is the same as one off one of his albums. The vocal on “Kidz” is taken by Gary and Mark, with a sort of bassy synth line driving the song in a sort of half-rock vein, then Robbie is back, with Gary, for “Pretty things”, with an almost “With or without you” keyboard opening melody, a downbeat tune with Erasure-style synth and bass. The contrasting vocals of both of the guys work very well on this track, and they stay together for “Happy now”, another mostly low-key track with a nice line in synth and some moody percussion, vocals very understated, almost mumbled until the chorus cuts in about a minute into the song when it picks up in tempo and indeed mood, getting more upbeat and happy, some good guitar licks helping the song along, with a nice piano ending.

Robbie's last vocal performance on the album is solo, when he takes “Undergound machine”, going all Laurie Anderson, with a big striding bass and guitar, quite rocky and very Robbie Williams. The remaining four tracks are all solo efforts, with the first up being Mark Owen, who sings “What do you want from me?” He seems to have an unfortunate lisp, which only becomes apparent when he sings without backup, but he does okay. The song is all right too, a sort of mid-pacer with some decent guitar and some effective strings, while “Affirmation” is Howard Donald's only solo appearance, with an almost “Chopsticks” piano intro, then busy synth and wheezing drum machines as the song picks up, becoming a fast almost-rocker. At least there is little in the way of true dance music here.

Gary takes the mike for the last (official) track, “Eight letters”, gentle acoustic guitar opening and the closest the album comes to having a ballad, which is a pity, because though this is a good song I would have preferred a proper ballad just to round things off. There is another track, a “hidden” one, so perhaps “Flowerbed”, voiced by Jason Orange in his only solo performance, may provide it? Well it's only thirty seconds in, and proves worth waiting for, Jason's voice heavily distorted through a vocoder it would seem, very atmospheric until he starts singing without distortion. It's a nice little song, not a ballad but a good ending, even though “Eight letters” makes a very decent closer anyway.

It's not the revelation “Beautiful world” was, but at least “Progress” doesn't go back to the vacuous dance tunes of the early albums, and it's another step along the road to musical maturity on this journey Take That have embarked upon since then. As an album, it would not be my favourite from this band, but it's certainly a close second. Does the return of Robbie add a lot to it? Yes, but in ways explained above it also takes from the appreciation of Take That, and I just wonder how much of their own material is in this album, and how different, if any, would it have been without him?

TRACKLISTING

1. The flood
2. SOS
3. Wait
4. Kidz
5. Pretty things
6. Happy now
7. Underground machine
8. What do you want from me?
9. Affirmation
10. Eight letters (includes “hidden track” “Flowerbed”)

I came here to Tak'Thatten, to the British side of Greater Boybandland, in the hope I might find something different. Initially, I was disappointed, but as I ploughed on through the albums of Take That I began to sense something else, something greater than just a boyband. Okay, not on the first album but by the second there were signs, and then of course once I reviewed “Beautiful world” it was a total surprise, and a pleasant one. I've grown now to see Take That as more a band than a group, or even a collection of singers, something that I would not say of any of the other boybands I've reviewed.

So this trip, long and tiring though it was, has not been a waste of time. In the sleepy hills and villages of England (or at least, what passes for a very stereotyped England here) I've finally found music I can appreciate, and a band who are willing to push beyond the tight boundaries placed upon them by virtue of their chosen genre.

Now it's a busride northeast, to see if my own countrymen can have as much and as favourable an effect on me as have my cousins from over the water. Tomorrow I travel to the land of Boyzeire, to research the first Irish boyband, but not the last; a band which, in turn, gave birth to a much larger and more successful one.

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Must be about time we spun some more Talking Heads, eh? Here's “Life during wartime”.

Pages 3 to 5

Ten: I thought The Robe was a poor album, full of rather dull songs and when an album is dull and long grrrrrrrrr,r and nowhere near as good as the previous two releases.

Marillion: Fugazi was always one of my favourite Marillion albums and I liked your background coverage on the album cover. Are Marillion and Fish your favourite artists as I've seen quite a few entries by them already?

Thin Lizzy:The final Thin Lizzy release is a good album but my favourite releases by Lizzy are Jaibreak, Bad Reputation and Black Rose along with the live Live and Dangerous. I always thought Lizzy were at their best with the Scott Gorham/Brian Robertson partnership on lead guitar and preferred either of those two over Gary Moore (Gary Moore was great but I thought those two clicked so well).

The Pandora's Box song attracted me for the title, as there is also a Cheap Trick song with the same name, not one of their best though. Sure the singer of Pandora's Box does sound like Bonnie Tyler!


Cheap Trick - Good Girls Go to Heaven - YouTube

It seems every boyband (even the one accepted as the first) were formed in order to emulate the success of their predecessor(s) and to be the “new [insert boyband name here]”, and so it was with Ireland's first boyband, Boyzone. Formed by Irish manager and producer Louis Walsh, they were to be the answer to Take That, and were put together out of auditions of hundreds of singers over the period 1993-1994. Though there were changes to personnel, the final and “classic” lineup was as follows:
Ronan Keating
Shane Lynch
Stephen Gately
Mikey Graham
Keith Duffy

Boyzone would go on to be one of the biggest selling bands in Irish history, until the arrival of their heirs, Westlife, who would blow all previous records out of the water. As I look out the grimy windows of the rattling bus making its way a hundred miles or so northeast to Boyzeire, I note that once again the landscape is changing. Seems to be something to do with climate control and high-definition graphics, but whereas it was sunny but a little foggy when we left Tak'Thatten, the sky has now completely clouded over and the rain is beginning to slant down as we head towards our next destination. Ah, Irish weather indeed! I almost feel at home!

Three seats down, two small men dressed entirely in green and with white beards shift in their places uncomfortably, perhaps aware of their size compared to the other passengers. One scratches the side of his nose and tilts his emerald top hat back a little, while the other hefts a heavy shilellagh and eyes the other occupants of the bus meaningfully, then extracts a pouch of tobacco, a pipe and tamps the material into the bowl. As he prepares to light it though, the bus driver announces in a tannoy address not directed specifically but meant for only him: GREEN STAR BUS LINES WOULD LIKE TO REMIND PASSENGERS THAT SMOKING OF ANY KIND IS FORBIDDEN ON THEIR SERVICES. THANK YOU.

The little man snarls at no-one in particular, stows the pipe and fishes out an ipod, whose buds he jams angrily into his ears, wincing, then leans back as the tinny sounds of Irish reels and jigs attempts to escape from his headphones, his black brogues tapping out the rhythm as he closes his eyes.

I shake my head at the idea of stereotyping, and note as the dawn gives way to the morning that the sky has now acquired a greenish hue. There are a lot more cows and sheep in the fields, and more than once we pass a slowly ambling gypsy caravan, brightly painted and going the opposite way, its driver hunched over the reins, face almost totally obscured by scarves, out of which a dirty trail of grey smoke curls into the morning air. Evidently, smoking IS allowed on gypsy wagons, I note.

After a while looking out the window, and with nothing else remarkable to see, I turn my attention back to the two little green men, and notice that the one listening to the ipod is flinching and grimacing as if not enjoying what he's hearing. I tap him on the shoulder and ask him what he's listening to. He tells me it's Irish trad (or traditional) music: “Ceilis and ****e.” He looks very glum, and I ask does he enjoy that sort of music, in answer to which he shakes his head sadly. “Hate the feckin' stuff!” he says with feeling. “Still, ye've gotta listen to it. Part o' the job, y'see.” I enquire further and he enlightens me that he and his friend are both employed in Boyzeire as performing leprechauns. I smile that such things do not exist, and he favours me with a withering glance.

“Sure I know that, and you know that!” he snaps, having by now thumbed the pause button on his ipod, an action that has brought an expression of momentary relief to his craggy features. “But THEY don't, do they?” I ask who “they” are, and he grates “Feckin' tourists. They come here, expectin' to see a version of Ireland of the Welcomes, y'know, land of saints'n'scholars, an' all that? Doesn't exist, of course, but try tellin' THEM that! Me an' Freddie here (he indicates his companion needlessly) are employed at one o' the big ho-tels (he says the word hotel in two syllables, with the emphasis on the first) an' the money is grand, but ye got to know the music. They want ya to dance, an' sing, an' then they try to trap ye to get yer bag o' gold.”

I ask if he really has a bag of gold, to which he snarls “Now, don't ye think, lad, that 'twere the case I'd be sittin' on this heap o' rust, headin' for another six months o' humiliatin', demeanin' work? Have to work, lad, to keep body an' soul together, ye know? So we have to learn all this stuff by heart ---” Suddenly he pops out his earbuds, throws them at me and thumbs the play button, upon which I am assailed by the sounds of Tommy Makem and Liam Clancy singing about Gallipoli.

“Bloody skiddily-idle!” he says with feeling. “I'd rather be listenin' to Blue Oyster Cult, ye know? But there ain't much call for “Don't fear the reaper” where we're goin', lessen it's played on tin whistle, harp and bodhran! Gah! Bloody tourists!” I hastily hand the “leprechaun” back his player and shake my head, returning to my seat. Perhaps I have not so bad a job after all!

The gentle swaying rhythm of the bus as it rocks along the road coupled with the humidity and the almost hypnotic patter of the rain on the windows lulls me into sleep, and I'm suddenly aware of someone shaking me. I look up into the bushy face of the “leprechaun” I had spoken to, what seems only minutes but must surely be hours ago. He grins. “End o' the line, bucko! Welcome to the land of the green!” As he makes his way to the door, lugging some flight cases in which surely must be his musical instruments, the tools of his trade, his companion already ahead of him and dragging similarly heavy cases, he tips his wide-brimmed hat and looks back with eyes that I swear sparkle.

“If'n ye get a chance while ye're here”, he says, “drop in to the Bertie Inn. Ask for Shamus, I'll see ye right for a Guinness.” He scowls, a cloud passing over his furrowed brow. “Course, it's not me real name, but ye've got ta play t' the gallery, don't ye? Slan leat!” And with that Irish word of farewell he's gone, almost vanishing like a real leprechaun. I reluctantly pull my stuff together and struggle out of my seat, the last to disembark from the bus.
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It's pouring rain (of course) and I hurry to the bus station, from where I catch a taxi to my hotel. All the way there the driver swears he knows Bono, and in fact had a tryout for U2 when he was younger. He also claims that he played for Shamrock Rovers but a leg injury cut short his career, and he's apparently also good friends with our president, Michael D. Higgins. I do my best to ignore him, some non-committal sounds and I busy myself with my laptop. It's not even switched on, but he doesn't need to know that.

Once at the hotel I check in, sort out my stuff and head to the nearest restaurant as I'm starving, then it's down to the library once again for another ten-hour shift. I read that the parents of Boyzone frontman Ronan Keating initially discouraged their son from joining the band, as he had a promising career as an athlete, and they believed he was throwing away a college education and a real chance to make something of himself for a pipedream. Wonder how they feel now?
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Louis Walsh, of course, became famous as one of the resident judges on the X-Factor, and later went on to create and manage Westlife. Walsh retained tight control over Boyzone, almost like a domineering father, an attitude that would lead to a split between them later on in their career. I am, however, heartened to see that there is no huge statue of the impresario standing on a boyband as in the American part of this country: we Irish, even here, are less ostentatious. There are people we'll erect statues to --- James Joyce, Daniel O'Connell, Phil Lynott --- but Louis Walsh? Do me a favour!


Boyzone worked the club and pub circuit all over Northern Ireland during 1994, scoring an Irish hit with a cover of “Working my way back to you”, before they were eventually signed to Polygram and released their first album near the end of that year.

Said and done --- Boyzone --- 1994 (Polygram)
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With early contributions to the songwriting by members of the band, the album opens with “Together”, a generic dancer with some nice keyboards and the boppy dancebeat that characterised Take That's first two, and most/all of Backstreet Boys and Nsync's material, but then there's a nice ballad in the shape of “Coming home now”, with an early attempt at a slow rap. Very soul-oriented, this is the first track on the album written by all the members of the band, though Ronan Keating did contribute to the opener. It's not bad, but for a ballad a little generic, kind of BSB in its style. Some nice vocal harmonies, but then you'd expect that, wouldn't you?

Their first cover then, the Osmonds' “Love me for a reason”, proved to be their breakthrough hit, smashing open the charts and making them a hot commodity not only in their native Ireland, but in the UK and Europe too. Another soul-style ballad follows, “Oh Carol” with another, far superior one in “When all is said and done”, this being another one written by the lads. Lovely Spanish guitar in this, and some nice piano. After three consecutive ballads, this is followed by a more uptempo track, another one written by the band, but “So good” is not quite that: it's okay, but a little weak and limp, returning to the empty dance rhythms plundered and used so much by boybands before, and after, Boyzone.

A sort of mid-paced soul ballad/popper then in “Can't stop me”, before “I'll be there” lifts the quality slightly with another mid-pacer, but better than the previous track. The big piano ballad is “Key to my life”, which scored them another top three hit, followed by another mid-paced half ballad written by composer Andy Hill, “If you were mine”, then they cover Sutherland Brothers and Quiver's “The arms of Mary”. Not a bad version, but it's a little hard to mess up. Bit too slow for my tastes. “Believe in me” is the last original on the album, a sort of pop half-ballad and the album closes with yet another cover version, which provided them yet another hit, Cat Stevens' timeless “Father and son”.

For a debut it's not bad, but draws too much on the style and influences of other boybands who have gone before them. There are also, to my mind, too many cover versions (three in all), but in their defence Boyzone started out writing a lot of their own material, similar to Take That, and so had a better chance of retaining some sort of control over what they put out.

TRACKLISTING

1. Together
2. Coming home now
3. Love me for a reason
4. Oh Carol
5. When all is said and done
6. So good
7. Can't stop me
8. I'll be there
9. Key to my life
10. If you were mine
11. Arms of Mary
12. Believe in me
13. Father and son

After the success of their debut album, Boyzone were now an established commodity, and any ideas that an Irish act could not follow the success of their UK and US counterparts was forever dispelled when they had their first number one single with a cover of the Bee Gee's “Words”, followed by another single just barely missing the top spot and charting at number 2, with Tracy Chapman's “Baby can I hold you”. After that, Boyzone performed live at the Eurovision and later Ronan Keating received an Ivor Novello prize for songwriting. The boys from the green stuff had arrived!

A different beat --- Boyzone --- 1996 (Polydor)
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With a beautiful strings opening and nice backing vocals, “Paradise” opens the album with typical boyband sugar bombast, with Ronan now established as the band's main vocalist and frontman. It's a decent opener, somewhat more mature than the material on the debut, and features songwriting by some of the band, including Keating, who would become the band's main songwriter in addition to being their singer. The title track starts off on African/tribal beats, rather incongruously joined by a reedy vocal from perhaps Stephen Gately, hard to know as I don't really recognise any of the others. It acquires a kind of “Lion King” feel as it goes along, basically a ballad form with some hard drums, nice synth and some typically African-style instruments like maybe marimbas or something similar. Quite moving, actually.

Two covers follow, first is the “world anthem” called “Melting Pot”, which is all very well and good, but I don't really want to live in a world of multicoloured people! Following this is Michael Jackson's ode to a rat. Yeah, it's “Ben”, and it's as insipid as it was when Jackson sang it as a kid. Weirdly, whoever takes the vocal sounds very like the late King of Pop...

A real digital piano ballad follows, but I don't really find anything special about “Don't stop looking for love” --- could be sung by anyone from George Benson to Whitney Houston. Very generic. A little better is “Isn't it a wonder”, another single, another hit, a soul ballad before they launch into the big hit, their cover of Robin, Barry and Maurice's “Words”, which secured them their first number one record. It's good, but they take liberties with the verses I don't like, and I'm a fan of the original. “It's time” then comes across as a sort of reggae-lite song, bright and breezy with lively piano, while “Games of love” is more uptempo and dancy, but still listenable.

“Strong enough” is sort of their “Everybody (Backstreet's Back)”, a hard, funky dancer with handclap beats and stabbing synth, then “Heaven knows” is a nice little semi-acoustic ballad with soul overtones, pretty seventies but updated to the nineties. “Crying in the night” is a proper ballad though, with acoustic guitar and strings, then “Give a little” is a house/techno dance number that really just rips off early Take That, and the album ends on a cover of a classic traditional tune, the moody and atmospheric “She moves through the fair”. Arranged by Irish piano supremo Phil Coulter, it's bold, imaginative and with a very definite celtic air as oileann pipes and heavy drums set the tone, unfortunately when Ronan comes in he sounds distinctly ordinary, kind of ruining the atmos. For a proper version, check All About Eve's debut self-titled album. The arrangement is stunning though, and had it been an instrumental I would have given it a thumbs up no problem. Of course, had it been, it would be unlikely to have been on a Boyzone album.

So, no huge surprises then for their second album, but in fairness this has been the case for every boyband we have reviewed here. It always seems to take at least their third album before they come of age, as it were (although in the case of Nsync I'm not convinced that ever happened), so as Boyzone only released, to date, the four albums, I'm going to review them all here, and we'll see how they developed, if at all, as a band as the years and albums unfolded.

TRACKLISTING

1. Paradise
2. A different beat
3. Melting pot
4. Ben
5. Don't stop looking for love
6. Isn't it a wonder
7. Words
8. It's time
9. Games of love
10. Strong enough
11. Heaven knows
12. Crying in the night
13. Give a little
14. She moves through the fair

The longest Boyzone album to date, clocking in just short of seventy minutes and containing fifteen tracks, “Where we belong” was released in 1998 and again shot straight to the top of the Irish charts, getting to number one in the UK too. It contained a track which would become their biggest-selling single, as well as another cover version which would forever be identified with them.

Where we belong --- Boyzone --- 1998 (Polydor)
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There's often a sense of seventies soul to Boyzone's music that tends not always to be the same case with other boybands, and so it is with the opener to this, their third album, and indeed “Picture of you” won Ronan Keating an Ivor Novello and was featured in the Rowan Atkinson movie “Bean” (well, the second one anyway). It's a boppy, uptempo, cheerful song with a lot of brass, and a good opener. It's followed by the cover version of Tracy Chapman's “Baby can I hold you”, which would give them yet another hit single, reaching number two in the UK and Ireland, and forever consigning Tracy's original to the mists of history, at least in the minds of the younger generation, who by now no doubt thought that Boyzone wrote “Father and son” and “Words”.

A mid-paced half-ballad is up next, and “All that I need” is harmless enough, certainly lacking the emotion or class of a Take That song, but also eschewing the bubblegum pop/dance of Nsync. There's a funkiness about “Must have been high” (possibly controversial, given Ireland's strict catholic outlook on such matters) then the first proper ballad in “And I”, with some gentle digital piano and acoustic guitar. One thing that has always annoyed me about Ronan Keating is the “twang” he puts into his voice, as if he were singing in Nashville. Whether it's affected or genuine I don't know, but I haven't heard of any Dubliner having such an accent, and it's pretty infuriating.

Another ballad in “That's how love goes”, and yet another in “Where did you go”, then a nice idea in “I'm learning (Part 1)”, which although even another ballad (that's four in a row so far) is bookended later by part 2, and is a nice slow introspective song. Things finally pick up for “One kiss at a time”, a soul/jazz pop dancer reminscent of that soul revivalist, Phil Collins. Nothing particularly special, but it does provide welcome respite from Keating's somewhat whining crooning on the multi-ballads that have taken up the last twelve minutes or so.

It's short-lived though, as we're back with the ballads for the admittedly quite good “While the world is going crazy”, and things remain slow and laidback for what is essentially the title track, the acoustic guitar-driven “This is where I belong”. Tempo rises slightly for “Will be yours”, but it's still quite balladic in its structure, kind of similar in structure to the title track off their previous album, with some nice backing vocals, then a nice relaxed guitar intro to “Good conversation”, very restrained, nice and easy. And things stay that way for “You flew away”, making at this point eight ballads, out of a total of fifteen tracks, and that's not including “Baby can I hold you”.

Oddly, their biggest hit single, and the only one to gain any purchase for the band in the US, was not on the original UK version of the album, but everyone knows “No matter what”, and in fact you can add that to the total of ballads if you like. It's not on my copy, so the closing track then is “I'm learning (Part II)”, a nice little piano ballad to end what is almost an album of ballads, certainly they're in the majority. Out of a total of 68 minutes and 35 seconds, the combined ballads (including Chapman's song) make up 40 minutes and change: that's a lot of slow songs! And that doesn't include “No matter what”.

TRACKLISTING

1. Picture of you
2. Baby can I hold you
3. All that I need
4. Must have been high
5. And I
6. That's how love goes
7. Where did you go
8. I'm learning (Part 1)
9. One kiss at a time
10. While the world is going crazy
11. This is where I belong
12. Will be yours
13. Good conversation
14. You flew away
15. I'm learning (Part 2)

There would then elapse twelve years before the next, and so far, final album from Boyzone. During that time Stephen Gately would “come out”, revealing that he was gay, and then die from natural causes in 2009. Before that, Boyzone decided to break up, or as the Americans say, enter into hiatus. Keating embarked on a rather successful solo career, that indeed proved to make him at any rate better known in the USA than Boyzone ever were, with the success of his single “When you say nothing at all”, especially when it was featured in the movie “Notting Hill”. Kieran Duffy became well-known on TV for his role in the TV soap “Coronation Street”, while Gately took to acting on stage, and also writing children's books.

In 2000, Boyzone played what was to be their final gig in Dublin, and seven years later reunited for a tour, but it would be another three years before their fourth album would be released. The album sleeve features the four remaining members of Boyzone, but is dedicated to their late fifth member, Stephen Gately, and his voice can be heard posthumously on the opener and also on the track “Stronger”.

Brother --- Boyzone --- 2010 (Universal)
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Featuring for the first time no input whatever to the songwriting from any of the band, most interesting nothing from Ronan Keating, this stands as, so far, the last Boyzone album. A slew of pop songwriters were drafted in, a different writer it seems for every track on the album. The result is, finally, a more adult-oriented album, tipping more towards the scale of soft rock than pop or dance, and allowing Boyzone to finally grow up.

In a nice and fitting touch, the album is opened and closed by the last tracks on which Gately sings, the opener being “Gave it all away”, a nice emotional ballad which has less of the sugar-sweet themes of previous Boyzone songs and more the mature sound of Robbie Williams or Take That. It goes into a sort of reggae beat halfway through, which confuses me a little: can't see the point of that at all. Nice song to open the album though. Gately doesn't sing solo on it though, as Ronan Keating soon comes in in his usual role as main vocalist.

There's a real sense of AOR about “Love is a hurricane” (although Keating had previously argued that it was a rollercoaster, on his debut solo album...), with a nice bright bouncy piano line, and you would begin to wonder if “Brother” could be Boyzone's “Beautiful world”? The only difference here would be that whereas Take That refined their songwriting to craft some excellent tracks and a wonderful album, the change here has to be down to the many different songwriters used, so can it be said, if such a seachange is seen by the time the album ends, that Boyzone orchestrated the change?

High quality continues in “Ruby”, a half-ballad with nice rolling percussion, and I notice only now that again I haven't reached for the forward button, unlike the three previous Boyzone efforts, which were certainly skipped through as I got a flavour of each track. This certainly bodes well, but can it last? We'll see. “Too late for hallelujah” veers a little into venerated U2 territory, with a great rhythm section adding a real sense of tension and drama to the song, and I must say Ronan Keating is in probably the finest voice he's been. Probably the best compliment you could pay Boyzone on this album (so far) is that were you to hear any of these songs on the radio you would be surprised to realise who was singing them, as they do not in any way sound like the usual fare Boyzone have plied up to now.

Sounding very Robbie Williams, the delicate ballad “Separate cars” does nothing to change my belief that this is going to be a far different Boyzone album to any of the previous three. About a minute in, it kicks into life and the old soul influences come back to bear, but with a lot of maturity now. Perhaps the shock at the loss of their friend and bandmate has shaken them out of complacency, shown them how lucky they are to be where they are, or perhaps they've all just grown since their last outing, I don't know, but this is a far more mature album than anything they've put out. There's real emotion and power in “Separate cars”, and even Keating seems to have eschewed the country lisp in his voice that he practiced up to now, sounding much more natural.

It's a pity that they couldn't have pulled off this transformation with their own songs, as some of the lyrics here seem to point directly to the loss of Stephen Gately, as in “One more song”, when Keating sings ”When you left/ You took the melody with you” and ”When I'm down/ I look up to the sky.” It's a nice mid-paced pop tune, as Ronan sings ”I would give anything/ Just to hear you sing again.” Very touching, but it would have carried more weight if they had at least been involved in the writing. “Right here waiting”, despite the title, is not a cover of the Richard Marx classic ballad --- in fact, there look to be no covers on this album, another first for Boyzone --- but is rather an anthemic mid-pacer with a nice line in guitar, while “Nothing without you” starts off with tender piano, a song which really showcases Ronan's voice with a Hornsbyesque track that gets going again about a minute in and really starts to, er, rock.

Piano also features heavily in “Till the sun goes down”, a half-ballad with rocky overtones, and as I more or less suspected, I've not come across one bad track yet. AND I've been listening to every track all the way through. There are only three left, so it's exceptionally unlikely I'll encounter one that makes me want to skip through it, as I move on to “Time”, which sets its stall out from the off, with jingly guitar and dull, thumping drums, another U2-inspired groove that probably set stadiums alight wherever they went on their tour.

Boyzone try their hand at gospel for “Let your wall fall down”, with deep, heavy church organ and a full choir. Hallelujah, indeed! The album closes then, fittingly, with the final words from Stephen Gately on “Stronger”, delicate acoustic guitar and piano backing a fragile little ballad, a poignant and moving end to what has stood for two years as Boyzone's final album.

Like Take That before them, I believe Boyzone pulled off the extremely difficult task of reinventing themselves on this album, made the harder considering they had to face life and their public with the loss of one of their members. Although Take That did it independently, as mentioned above, and Boyzone had to hand over songwriting duties to professionals to change their sound, and their perception outside their fanbase, I commend them for this huge change of direction and on making “Brother” their most adult and accessible album to date. If they wanted (as I'm sure they did) to create a fitting tribute to the late Stephen Gately, they succeeded without question, and in fine style too.

TRACKLISTING

1. Gave it all away
2. Love is a hurricane
3. Ruby
4. Too late for hallelujah
5. Separate cars
6. Right here waiting
7. One more song
8. Nothing without you
9. Till the sun goes down
10. Time
11. Let your wall fall down
12. Stronger

I stretch and rub my eyes, glancing at the big clock on the library wall which reveals it's now 4am. I shut off my laptop and unplug it from the socket, sliding it back into its case, the sounds of acoustic guitar and digital piano still echoing in my ears. Tomorrow (well, today really) I'll be leaving Greater Boybandland, my mission here complete, and travelling to the furthest reaches of this country, where I'll research the modern boybands and see what, if any, lessons are to be learned from what I've experienced here.

I'm alone as I leave the library, but for the curator, who barely looks my way, obviously recognising me as someone who is not into boyband music, and therefore hardly worth her notice. I suppress a scowl at the slight prejudice, but it's a virulent disease that runs rampant all across this land from north to south and from coast to coast, and I've learned to accept and deal with it.

As I make my way back to my hotel I reflect on what I've learned. Whereas in Early Boybandland all I really found was that boybands (early American ones, at least) played watered-down pop, soul and dance music that had little or nothing to say, and was fairly formulaic and generic, here in GBBL I've learned, mostly down here in the south, that boybands can change, that they can break beyond the rigid musical boundaries they find themselves in, that they can try other things and that, given the right impetus and decent songs they can start to regard themselves as “proper” bands, or more to the point perhaps, be regarded by other than their fans as proper musicians.

I've already noted that I have been impressed by two boyband albums, both of whom come from my side of the Atlantic, and it gives me hope. When, in preparation for this series of articles, several months ago, I went searching torrents for Nsync, Backstreet Boys, Boyzone and Westlife, and other boybands, I felt kind of dirty having them on my hard drive, and had absolutely no doubt that, once the article was written and published, I would summarily delete them from my computer, never wishing to listen to them again. However, I'm as surprised as anyone to admit that there are one or two albums I will be keeping, and listening to just for pleasure.

I suppose in the final analysis this series has proven, or is proving, that you can never take anything for granted, judge nothing at face value, and that in this wonderful and varied world of music, there's always some new surprise waiting for you, if you have the courage to look for it and allow it to affect you. In the end, close-mindedness is the enemy of all music: just because you don't like ---- or haven't heard, but have formed an instant and uninformed opinion about --- certain music, does not mean that there isn't something there, waiting to be discovered, waiting to inform and educate you, and perhaps open a small door into a much wider world of music, a door you would never previously have chosen, or dared, to walk through.

I've titled this section “Stranger in a strange land”, and treated it as allegorical to a sea voyage, a journey of exploration and discovery, and like most explorers, I find I'll be coming back with more than a few little treasures and mementoes, and a better understanding of something about which I was largely ignorant, and uncaring, before I set off. I'm not becoming anything close to a fan of boyband music, but I can begin to see something of merit in some of it. This traveller is starting to feel less of a stranger in these lands.

Squinting blearily up at the night sky as I make my way back to my hotel, I wonder if it's too late to catch Shaymus at the Bertie Inn? ;)

THE END.
BUT TROLLHEART WILL RETURN IN THE SUMMER, IN THE THIRD AND FINAL PART OF THIS SERIES.

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Not sure how many of you know this song, but it certainly was a big hit back in the 70s. This is Marshall, Hain, with “Dancing in the city”.

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I suppose, back when I went for this album, I should have thought about it, should have known better. I'm no fan of Bob Dylan, really don't like Roy Orbison and I can really take or leave George Harrison. I am, however, a fan of Jeff Lynne, being a big ELO follower (they were the first band I ever got into seriously) and though I wouldn't class myself as an actual fan, I do have some Tom Petty albums and I do like a lot of his music. I'd heard the leadin single and thought the album was going to be great. The idea was great. The theme was great. The whole thing looked like it could really work.

But it didn't. Not for me anyway, despite the album being very successful and well-received.

I personally think the whole problem was down to egos, although according to Wiki there wasn't too much of that, just five guys having fun making music. It shows though in the track selection. Whereas “Handle with care” and “End of the line” were pretty much a team effort, every other song was helmed by one or the other of the guys, leading to a, to my mind, disconnect from the album. Instead of being ten tracks by the band it ended up being mostly individual efforts, minus the two mentioned. If you don't like a particular singer you might listen to him singing with others (look at Band Aid; how many of them would you listen to on their own?), but you won't particularly want to hear them singing their own song, and that's more or less what happened, which is why I count it as a failed effort, as far as I'm concerned, and why it's here, in this section.

Traveling Wilburys Volume I --- The Traveling Wilburys --- 1988 (Warner Bros)
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The whole idea was clever: get five rock legends, put them together to do some recording, make up a pretend “family” they can all be part of and record the album under that name. That way, there's no squabbling about whose name goes on the album first, last or at all: everyone's a Wilbury, and no-one's more famous than anyone else. In theory.

The actual lineup of Wilburys was:
George Harrison --- Nelson Wilbury
Jeff Lynne --- Otis Wilbury
Roy Orbison --- Lefty Wilbury
Tom Petty --- Charlie T. Wilbury, Jr.
Bob Dylan --- Lucky Wilbury

For once, this was not a media publicity idea or that of a record label or producer. It all came about from happenstance and serindipity: George Harrison needed a B-side for a single, meanwhile Jeff Lynne was in town producing an album for Roy Orbison. Needing a studio, they met over dinner and decided to call Bob Dylan. While picking up his guitar from Tom Petty's house after dinner, Harrison invited him along to the session the next day, whereafter they recorded what would become the album's lead single, “Handle with care”.

Seen as too good to just be a B-side, the guys got the idea of recording a whole album together, and so the Traveling Wilburys project was born. The album opens on that track, which is great, with all five of the guys taking a few lines, a part of a verse, and it's a very collaborative effort, but then things change when Dylan takes lead vocals on “Dirty world” with the others singing backup. As I say, I've never had much time for Dylan (is that a torch-bearing, pitchfork-waving mob I see in the distance, approaching angrily?) and this track doesn't change my mind. Not a fan of Dylan, and there's a little too much brass in this for my tastes.

So after a very decent start, I found this a letdown, but maybe it's an isolated incident? Well, “Rattled” has Lynne on lead vocal, but it's one of those early rock'n'roll songs I really don't like, similar to when ELO did “Hold on tight” and “Rock and roll is king” --- songs I grew to like, but when I originally heard them they almost spoiled the album(s) for me. Not a fan of 50s rock and roll, either. And this is Jeff Lynne, one of two in the quintet whom I would have expected to have rescued this album for me. Very disappointing, and very ordinary. “Last night” starts off a bit better, and with Petty on lead it's not too bad, but it's still pretty mundane compared to the opener, or indeed the closer. More damn horns, and they could even be mariachi, as this track has a sort of Mexican/South-of-the-border feel to it. Orbison's vocal coming in halfway does nothing to improve the song, and then we're onto his solo effort.

I've never liked Roy Orbison's voice. Where others (millions probably) will describe it as heavenly, dreamy, soulful, smooth, I hear it as whiny, and “Not alone anymore” is, for me, just one big long whine from start to finish. Oh, sorry, didn't I mention? Hated it. The more annoying as it starts off well for about three seconds with decent ELO-style strings, but then Orbison opens his mouth and the whole thing goes downhill, for me. It has to be said though, it's not as bad as the absolute dirge that is “Congratulations”, with the lead vocal again taken by Dylan. Hell, it's just depressing, and as I've already said all I'm going to say about Bob Dylan I'll say no more, but you can guess I do not like this track.

There's a huge lift then with “Heading for the light”, a Jeff Lynne vehicle that just stands head and shoulders above the basic mundanity of the rest of the songs, opener and closer excluded, and at least gives me a third song to rate on the album. It's very ELO, boppy and with some great guitar and some really effective backing vocals from the rest of the Wilburys. Yes, there are horns in it, but the sax is used to great effect and really works well for the song. It's almost a surprise that the track is so good, considering the so-so fare that has preceded it. We're soon back in that territory though, with “Margarita”, with Petty on the mike. Well, to be fair, it's not that bad, mostly instrumental really, with the singing only coming in after about a minute in a three-minute song, then a sort of tribal chant in there somewhere, good keyboard intro with some decent guitar and some nice bass; it's not as good as “Heading for the light”, but it's not too bad.

The longest track, unfortunately, has Dylan on lead, and though in fairness “Tweeter and the monkey man” is not a bad track really at all, with a lot of ELO in the chorus, it's hard to enjoy it while being totally distracted by Dylan's terrible attempt at singing --- that mob is getting closer! --- which thankfully doesn't happen in the chorus, and keeps the song from falling apart. Damn, if they only had Lynne or Petty, or even Harrison singing this I could have rated it a lot higher.

The album closes on the other single, “End of the line”, where again the Wilburys all get together and take a few lines of the song, and it works really well. If you haven't heard the single (come out from under that rock, wouldya?) you may know it from the finale of “One foot in the grave”. It's a great song, the more poignant that Orbison died before it was released as a single, and so in the video in place of him while his part is being sung they show a guitar in a rocking chair. Very moving.

But as an album, I really feel this failed for me. More songs of the quality of the three mentioned, the replacement of Bob Dylan with someone who could actually sing (Was that a rock being thrown against my window?) and this album could have been a real classic. As it is, it survives held together by a few decent tracks and a lot of filler, mediocre at best and not representative of the artistes. Surely they could have come up with something better?

The death of Roy Orbison put paid to the original lineup, but they were back for another album --- curiously titled “Volume 3” --- with just the four remaining Wilburys, but I never checked it out. To be honest, until I started researching this I thought there had only ever been one album from the Traveling Wilburys. Whether “Volume 3” was better than “Volume 1” or not I neither know nor care to know. For me, it's all one big, fat meh.

TRACKLISTING

1. Handle with care
2. Dirty world
3. Rattled
4. Last night
5. Not alone anymore
6. Congratulations
7. Heading for the light
8. Margarita
9. Tweeter and the monkey man
10. End of the line

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You'd have to wonder if James Brown would still say “I feel GOOD!” about “Living in America” these days. Good song though, and who can resist the godfather of soul?

Sorry to hear that. I think "The Robe" is a great album, with the title track, "Standing on the edge of time" (surely that was single material, even chart?), "Arcadia" and "Fly like an eagle" particular standouts. Still, we can't all like the same thing, as I never tire of saying...
Yeah, I've been into Marillion since the beginning and I'd definitely put them as probably ny favourite artiste, at least in the top three but probably number one. There's only one album of theirs I don't like, and it's "Somewhere else". Tried and tried to get into it but had to give up. But I love everything else by Marillion, unreservedly. Oh and the Fish/Hogarth thing doesn't bother me: I listen to all the FIsh solo stuff too.
I was never a huge Lizzy fan, but I do love Gary Moore's work, as you'll see at some point when you come across my week-long tribute to him on the anniversary of his passing. As for Lizzy, I'd have to say it's between "Renegade" and "Thunder and lightning" for me.
That album is pure gold, and the only one they ever released. Absolutely worth listening to. Who doesn't love Steinman? :)

Road to darkness --- Gandalf's Fist --- 2011 (Gandalf's Fist)
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Now, I know what you're thinking: with a name like Gandalf's Fist, and an album cover curiously reminiscent of Genesis' seminal “Nursery cryme”, this has prog rock written all over it, right? Well, this will stun you rigid, but you're right. Gandalf's Fist is essentially two guys, Dean Marsh and Luke Severn, who have been together and making music since 2005. They do indeed draw heavily upon prog rock influences, so heavily in fact that it's tantamount to copying in places, as I found when I listened to this, their second full album. Which is not to say that it's a bad album, just not very original, when I believe it could and should have been.

This is a concept album. Remember them? Gandalf's Fist aim to bring back the pure joy of listening to an album all the way through, which Bill Bailey recently remarked has become something of an oddity in these days of ipods, playlists and single-downloadable-tracks. No more do we have to suffer through tracks we don't like, skip or move past them. Nowadays we can select what we want to hear from an album and ignore the rest. Or we can add the tracks we like to a playlist, leaving the ones we don't languishing in the land of seldom-played-songs. Some software will, if we tell it to, ensure we never hear track A again if we don't want to, cutting it out of its algorithm so that it is never selected.

But concept albums, by their very nature, demand and require we listen to every track, as (if the album is constructed correctly) each song, piece of music, instrumental or spoken passage is there to advance the narrative, take us along the storyline and make sense out of what we're listening to. Would you even think of taking a novel, reading the first 100 pages, then skipping over the next 40 and trying to pick up the story after them? You'd be hopelessly lost. Now imagine playing “The lamb lies down on Broadway”, but missing out tracks like “The lamia” and “The colony of slippermen” (those of you who are familiar with that album know what I'm talking about; those who are not, I recommend you make its acquaintance without further delay!) or “The wall” without “One of my turns” or “Mother”. Just wouldn't make the same sense it does if you go all the way from opening track to closing track. You get much more of a feel for, and an understanding of, what the artiste is trying to get across to you when you listen all the way through.

So it is with this album. The basic story is set on Io, (one of the moons of Jupiter, if you didn't know) to which one Lucy, a young girl intentionally meant to resemble Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz”, is transported by an evil sorcerer. The plot will (hopefully) unfold as the album progresses, but this is one album that needs to be listened to all the way through. The music encapsulates, apparently, seventies progressive rock like Yes, Genesis and Rush, as well as blues, folk, instrumental of course and even spoken narrative. To quote the band, ”the sound could be roughly categorized as Arthur C Clarke taking guitar lessons from David Gilmour before jumping into a Delorean to kidnap L Frank Baum.”

Sadly, I found as I listened to it that "Road to darkness" failed to live up to that rather grandiose and exciting premise. I also found the plot hard to follow, but that could be down to the inordinate amount of instrumentals on an album of 10 tracks.

So, still interested? Oh, you know you are! Comfortable? Well, then, we'll begin.

It opens on what sounds like a jews harp (but is more likely to be a synth), then weird, spacey noises on definitely a synth and heavy drumming cuts in as “No place cyclone” begins. It's a short track, just over two minutes, and with no singing yet I have to assume it's going to turn out to be an instrumental. The basic theme repeats and echoes through it, giving me a sense of Vangelis' “Beauborg”, though without the hard percussion. Creepy, for sure. Thing turn decidely proggy however with the arrival of “Emerald eyes”, with a very Genesis/Marillion feel to it, lovely lush keyboards and now we hear the voice of Luke Severn, and comparisons definitely have to be drawn with Roger Waters; even the melody sounds a little like the opening of Floyd's “Echoes”, no surprise as GF revere the pink ones.

Lovely breakout guitar solo then from Dean Marsh which stands on equal ground with the best of Gilmour, and more Floyd comparisons rise with the Clare Torry-esque female vocal more than halfway through the track. Personally, I'd hope GF establish more of their own identity on this album, as it's just a little too close to Floyd for my liking at this particular moment.

Harpsichord opening to “Conjurer of cheap tricks”, another instrumental, sets a totally different scene, with hard guitar joining warbly keyboard and solid organ in a mid-paced piece that takes us towards the longest track, but not before leaving us with a soundclip from the movie (real or created I don't know) “The Wizard of Oz”, then guitar and keys intro pull us, “Into the dark”. Some very Rushesque guitar about a minute and a half in, then Luke is back with his soft and dreamy vocal, the rhythm settling down into a lazy, slow tread, my only problem being that I find it a little hard to make out what Luke's singing here; whether that's a production problem or an issue with his voice I don't know. Maybe they're trying to copy Floyd so much that they're putting too much echo/reverb/whatever on his vocal track?

Some nice, unexpectedly Iron Maiden-style guitar then, though not in the heavier vein of Bruce and the boys, more like in their power cruncher songs, and some nice soloing too. A title like “Twilight at the gates of the prism moon” is never going to avoid being labelled as prog, (really though? Could you guys have screamed “PINK FLOYD!” any louder?) but really it comes over as more space rock, seems to be another instrumental, with ethereal keyboards sort of reminiscent of ELO's “El Dorado”, then weird little guitar effects and audio tracks, with a lovely little guitar solo that then gets harder and more urgent, as piano keeps the counterpoint, and it ends as it began, on spacey synth and wind and choral effects.

That takes us into “The sulfur highways of Io”, opening with a really slick little bass solo and then chunky guitar with nice synth backing and measured drumming. Really nice piece of proggy swirly keyboard work then, a breakout guitar solo and as we're now halfway I'll have to assume this is yet another instrumental, which is all very fine, but I'm finding it hard to follow the plot, the concept as it were. And now, nearly three minutes in and taking me quite by surprise, here's Luke singing again, and again I'm having a little trouble making out what he's saying, though I think it may be double-tracking or something that's responsible. Not to say I can't understand what he's singing, just that it's difficult. This part of the track takes us firmly back into Pink Floyd territory, which while always welcome is a little disheartening, as I believed GF were just beginning to establish their own sound.

Well, “Untrodden ways” goes all medieval, with whistle opening and acoustic guitar, then Luke sings in a far different voice, not the falsetto he's been using up to now, and I have to say it's easier to hear what he's singing now. Elements of Tull and Zep in this, nice change of pace, close enough to being the ballad on the album perhaps. Flute accompaniment is nice, and I'm not normally a flute guy! Good deep backing vocals, or choral vocals on a synth perhaps.

Suddenly then an electric guitar attacks like a woodcutter kicking in Granny's door, and the drums pound as the song turns into something very much not a ballad! Interesting: it's always good to be surprised, for something different to happen and send you off on a tangent musically. Stops very abruptly though and we're back into keyboard noodling for the title track, some very exquisite piano and powerful organ (more Floyd I'm afraid in the organ, but that soon disappears as the track goes all Marillion on the keys), and then good hard guitar work cutting in. There's a spoken vocal then over the music which seems like a narration, and (again, sorry for the comparisons, but they're very clear) sounds like Rush's “The necromancer”. Back to Floyd then with Luke's vocal, and then back and forth between the singing and the narration. Nice melody and nice tone indeed. Probably the best track so far.

This brings us to “The council of Anderson”, which had a nice guitar opening, with acoustic and electric, and maybe mandolin as well? Good heavy keyboard sound, light percussion for now then it gets heavier and more pronounced as the vocal comes in, and without the double-tracking (or whatever) Luke sounds a lot better. Great jangly atmospheric guitar work from Dean, a nice half-ballad it would appear. Halfway through it kicks up a gear and speeds up, dragging in more Alex Lifeson-style guitar. Damn, I wish I could give these guys the credit they deserve, but they're so derivative at times it's hard to, well, not to take them seriously, but to take them on their own merits. Which is not to say they're not good musicians --- they are, but I just would rather they followed their own path than retreading ways others have already travelled.

The album ends on “Assorted lunatics”, a nice atmospheric ballad with some great vocals and some mesmerising guitar. Oh no! They even used the laughter at the end of the track, a la “Brain damage”! See, this is what I mean: this album is virtually a cobbling together of not only influences and styles of other bands, but almost slices of their work. It's hard to see it as a new, vibrant, hopeful work when there's so much not ripped off from, but taken from other prog rock bands.

And I found it impossible to follow the storyline. Again. Guess it must just be me.

I like this album, but I do find it hard to reconcile with how so many people have hailed it as one of the best discs/prog rock discs of 2011. I find it terribly derivative, almost a copy in some ways of parts of “Dark side of the moon”, in fact I'd possibly (if I were a cruel man) call it “A caress of dark side of the 2112” or something: there's just too much in it I recognise from other albums/artistes. Maybe that's just me but I tend to call them as I see them. Reading about this album I was really looking forward to something totally innovative and new, while retaining the old prog sensibilites, but what I seem to have found is a band who want to be Floyd with some Rush, Genesis and Marillion thrown in. Nothing wrong with that, but I think it's important to carve your own persona on your music, and I really don't feel that Gandalf's Fist have done that.

TRACKLISTING

1. No place cyclone
2. Emerald eyes
3. Conjurer of cheap tricks
4. Into the dark (containing “Emerald eyes reprise”)
5. Twilight at the gates of the prism moon
6. The sulfur highways of Io
7. Untrodden ways
8. Road to darkness
9. The council of Anderson
10. Assorted lunatics

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Faith and begorrah! 'Tis only a little over a week to go till Paddy's Day, and sure don't we all want to be just a little Irish at that time? As me old mother used to say.... er, sorry about that. Bloody stereotypes!

Anyway, what we're trying to say is that next Saturday being St. Patrick's Day, our national holiday here in Ireland, the Playlist of Life will be going even more Irish than usual. We'll be devoting the whole week to Irish artistes, legends, albums and features --- though I can promise no dancing leprechauns, at least, not in reality: what you see when you've had one too many is outside my control!

So get out the green dye and prepare to Irish up those coffees, and grab one of those extremely tacky green top hats before they're all gone! If there's one thing we Irish love more than the drink, it's the music and the craic, so get ready for both. From Planxty to Paul Brady, from Rory Gallagher to Mary Black and from Lir to Little Xs For Eyes, we're going to feature what we consider to be the best past, present and indeed future Irish music, starting Monday March 12.

Be the hokey, sure it'll be grand! What? Get outta here, you! If I've told you once...

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Go on, the worm dares ya! See if you can listen to this song without saying “No, he's not!”

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Let's check out another song which has the same title but vastly different versions. When we hear “Born to run”, we immediately of course think of the Bruce Springsteen classic from the album of the same name, a song which has gone down in history as one of his signature tracks, and indeed a breakout hit for him back in 1975. However, there are other songs around which bear the same title.

First of course, here's the one you expect...
Born to run (Bruce Springsteen) from “Born to run”

It's the classic rebel song for an older generation, a two-fingers to the grey unchanging skyline, uncertain political times and the older people that always seem to want to keep the younger ones down. It's a celebration of love and life, while taking notice of the fact that this is a ride that can't last forever. It hurtles along on rocket-rail drums and guitar, and of course has that classic Bruce grunt and chant. Pure class.

Born to run (Emmylou Harris) from “Cimarron”

Not surprisingly, this is a very country song, but in ways it shares similarities with Bruce's classic, with the same rebel spirit, the same desire to break out of what's seen as a trap, with similar exuberance and the joy of being young. Admittedly, Emmylou ain't young singing it here, but then, music is timeless and ageless, yes?
Born to run (Lynyrd Skynyrd) from “The last rebel”

Pure southern rock from the boys who brought you “Free bird” and “Sweet home Alabama”, this version is a hard-hitting, powerful rock cruncher detailing how hard a life the singer has had, and how he has to keep on the move all the time. Not so much of the youth in this one; it's the lament of a middle-aged guy who's trying to take the world on his shoulders, but there's determination in there too, determination not to give up or to give in. Like most LS tracks, it breaks away into a real instrumental rocker halfway, though somewhat different to the likes of “Free bird”, it's mostly driven by piano. Sweet!
Born to run (Marillion) from “Radiation”

In a complete turnaround from all the above, Marillion use a slow, almost blues ballad styling for their song, telling the tale of ordinary people who know they will never leave the town they were born in, never rise to anything, never be anything. Mostly organ with some really nice guitar from Steve Rothery, it's played in a very downbeat style, so much so that at times you need to strain a little to hear what Hogarth is singing. Great song though, with a superb blues guitar solo from Rothery. Interestingly, I don't believe this song uses the words “born to run” in its lyric at all.
Born to run (K-os) from “Atlantis: hymns for disco”

I'll be the first to admit I don't listen to rap music, but to be fair this doesn't sound too bad. K-os, who I believe plies his trade in the world of rap, and his song, also called “Born to run”, which leads us on to
Born 2 run (7Lions) from [no album yet]

Okay, so the “to” is replaced by the number 2, but even so... Not bad this; starts off as rap and then seems to cut in with some hard rock. Sort of Lostprophets/Evanescence (yeah, what do I know?) --- looks like these guys could have a bright future ahead of them!

So that's a pretty good example of how a song title can cross genres. We have classic rock, southern rock, country and rap, with a few others thrown in for good measure. And you thought there was only one “Born to run”! Well, there is, but there are other songs out there with the same title...

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Man I'm going to beat you up over these two albums.

Journey Arrival: On the face of it, yes Steve Augeri does sound like Steve Perry but you quickly realize that his voice really lacks the depth of Steve Perry, Steve Perry has both a power and sensitivity to his voice the Augeri just can't match, we're probably talkng in Steve Perry as being the best AOR vocalist ever along with Bobby Kimball and Jimi Jameson on the same level. I found Augeri's vocals hollow by comparison and Arrival somewhat flat as an album, it does have some good songs but I'd rate it as a very average bit of work. When it comes to Journey albums Frontiers still blows me away.

ABWH: I pretty much dislike every Yes related album after Big Generator and I think the Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe album about as bad as the Union album which came out the same year. In fact I find most of ABWH really forgettable which is remarkable considering that it contained 4 of the most revered musicians in Prog. I think every Yes album with the exception of Magnification to a poor album anyway.

I see Night Ranger is up next for me to comment on:p:

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One of the better songs --- well, okay, let's be honest: the only good song from Public Image Limited, starring that cherub from the Sex Pistols, Johnny Rotten aka John Lydon, this is “Rise”.

I refer you to my comment on Ten's "The Robe". :) We can't all like the same things, and though I like Steve Perry's voice and he will always be number 1 Journey vocalist, I love this album so much nothing will change my mind. What do you think of Pineda? ("Eclipse" reviewed much further on...)
Well you answered your own question there, sort of. If you don't like Yes then you're unlikely to like ABWH. I don't like Tull but wouldn't comment on a review of Aqualung since it wouldn't interest me. You're kind of losing the high ground here, guy! :D If you hate something then it kind of really doesn't matter if you say it's terrible, as your opinion is totally skewed. God knows what you'll say about my boybands reviews, or the NWOBHM section!
Surely you can't say anything bad about "Dawn patrol"...? ;)

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Been a while since we had any Simple Minds. The worm loves the sense of, well, just feeling tiny against the majesty and breadth of nature engendered by the video in this song. The great outdoors, indeed!

Yes:Hey, I was unable to re-edit my Yes entry as I realized afterwards that it was open to mis-interpretation. What its should say, is that I'm a HUGE Yes fan and they are one of the best bands if not the best of the classic prog era. I'm therefore saying that after Big Generator they put out a whole load of very poor albums with the exception of Magnification.

Journey:I've still not heard the Pineda albums as they are still a way down on my big listening list, but I have seen Jouney a couple of times in concert and the last time was with Jeff Scott Soto on vocals, he did a decent job and gave the songs some muscle, but it was obvious that he couldn't sing the softer numbers, so the job was passed over to Deen Castronovo on drums.

Night Ranger: Hell I love Dawn Patrol and its one of the essential AOR releases and your review was spot on, the whole album is a guitar enthusiasts delight and in concert the band really rocked out on those songs, the choice track on the album for me has to be "Eddie's Comin Out"

Trollheart I can't wait to see your NWOBHM section because I don't know if I pointed out to you before, but I have both a NWOBHM and Power Metal Thread on the forum, they are not detailed album reviews but just lighter reviews of bands and albums with general chit-chat, lots of interesting stuff on both threads.

AOR is really my thing, now when I say AOR I'm referring to predominantly US soft rock acts of the 1970s and 1980s and I'm into the more harder rocking but very melodic style of bands like Journey, Survivor, Boston, REO Speedwagon and especially Toto etc. Also I'm pretty much obsessed with pomp/prog acts like Styx and Kansas etc. What I'm not into are the poppier artists of the era like FM and Eric Martin etc, but I do like Rick Springfield a lot.

Ah, yes, that does change the whole idea, doesn't it? Just as TheNiceGuy has just posted a review of an ELP album, and I don't like ELP so wouldn't even bother commenting on it --- except maybe in a peripheral sense, like if I liked the words he used or his prose or whatver --- as my opinion would carry no weight. Sort of like a Lady GaGa fanoid going into a Motorhead thread and saying this music is crap. Means nothing.

But since you now advise you DO like Yes, and I actually am not a huge fan, it becomes odder then that you don't like ABWH, though you say you hate "Union", and that was essentially ABWH II, so that makes sense. I suppose I'd need to hear more "classic" Yes to appreciate why you don't like ABWH, but I just really love nearly everything about it. To each his own, as they say..
Not much I can add to what I've already said about Journey really. Wasn't blown away by the new album, but I did like "Generations" and "Trial by fire". "Escape" of course is classic and "Frontiers" is great too, though I think it has a few weak tracks ("Back talk", "Rubicon")
I agree "Eddie" is a great track, but the first track I ever heard from NR was "Don't tell me you love me". It blew me away then, and it still does now. My standout on the album, no question.
The way I'm looking at the NWOBHM is to take some of the bigger, major bands who made it, who created their name and fanbase through the movement, and some smaller ones who didn't make it, or folded soon after. I've deliberately left out my all-time favourite band, Maiden, as I think they're done to death, they're in a totally different league and anyway I did an extensive profile of them for my "Taking Centre Stage" slot.

If you want to skip on to the section --- I don't know if you want to go page by page, but this is now page 100, as you can see, so you could be a while --- it starts on page 32, with Praying Mantis, Angel Witch and Trespass featured, then picks up with part 2 on page 61 with Raven, Cloven Hoof and Venom. Part 3 will follow soon, maybe by April, or hopefully May at the latest. It's due to feature Tank, Wolf and the mighty Saxon.

I'd be interested in your opinion of the section, considering you're an NWOBHM aficionado. It's called "Witches, bitches, maidens and monsters --- the bands of the NWOBHM".
Yes I like AOR too, particularly Asia, Boston, Journey, Magnum, Fleetwood Mac etc, but my main love is prog rock like Marillion, Genesis, Pendragon, Twelfth Night, Rush, Arena, Mostly Autumn, Shadow Gallery, Jadis and so on.

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The genius of Tom Waits never fails to amaze me. Whether he's writing tender, heartfelt love songs, cold rebuffs of unwanted lovers or off-the-wall weird stuff he always gives it everything he has, and it's seldom if ever that you can predict what he's going to say in his lyrics. The music is always pretty much stunning, with him using the oddest and most obscure musical instruments, often arrangements that feel like they should just never work, but do, and how that gravelly, hoarse and often slightly slurred voice can bring out the beauty in one of his many touching ballads is a constant source of wonder to me.

Today I want to look at another three of his works, and as per usual I could take thirty and talk about them, but there aren't that many hours in the day and I also have other stuff to do, so I've agreed to limit myself to three per section. The first one I want to tackle today is from an album that, to be fair, I could do the entire section on. His first really “different” album, after two albums of basic blues and folk/jazz music, 1976's “Small change” was in fact a BIG change: a change in the way Waits wrote, a change in overall themes and a very major change in his lyrics. Albums up to then had concentrated mostly on love songs/ballads or little vignettes, but by and large relatively positive with, to be completely fair and frank, not a whole lot to say. “Small change”, er, changed all that.

Concentrating mostly on the effects of alcoholism, and drawing in themes of disenfranchisement, loneliness, poverty and homelessness, the album is the first to really gather a cast of characters around Waits' songs, and far from having adventures they merely stumble and stagger through life, making do: none of them are heroes, and none of them in fact are anything remarkable. If there's one thing that sticks out and remains with you about the characters you encounter when playing “Small change” for the first time, it's their ordinariness. There but for the grace of god, as they say...

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Pasties and a g-string (at the Two O'Clock Club), from “Small change”, 1976 (Asylum)

Carried entirely, and I mean entirely on percussion, this song is really special. When you hear it the first time you keep expecting a guitar, sax, bass or something to join in, but nothing does, and the song takes sparseness and bare-bones to new levels. Against it, Waits sings in perfect time with the drumming --- listen to when he says “With the trenchcoats, magazines, bottle full of rum” and right at that instant the rimshot (come on: I'm not a drummer! Cymbal, then!) hits in perfect synchonisation: it's a joy to hear.

The song concerns the goings-on at the abovementioned Two-O'Clock Club, a strip joint where bored or dirty old men come to get their rocks off watching the dancers. It's gritty and realistic, sad and pathetic, never really titillating and while Waits never condemns what the guys do there, he similarly does not condone it. Like in most of his songs, Waits does not judge: he's probably done this himself --- well, he's pictured on the album sleeve in the dressing room of a dancer --- so he probably can't take the moral high ground. But then, he doesn't want it. This is not an indictment of strip clubs and their clientele, or a rail against the women who work there, nor is it a plea to see these people --- either class --- as human beings, not just objects. Waits does not care how you view the scene, he just wants to describe it, and uses his, at this point, burgeoning sense of humour in his lyrics, with lines like ”She's so good/ Make a dead man come!” and ”I'm getting harder than Chinese algebra!” In what would be become typical Waits style, the word “algebra” gets run into “brassieres”, making it “algebrassieres”, with a drunken slur that just makes it twice as funny.

Here's the lyric in its entireity anyway. Warning: not for kids! ;)
”Smelling like a brewery, looking like a tramp,
I ain't got a quarter, got a postage stamp.
Been five o'clock shadow boxing all around the town,
Talking with the old man, sleeping on the ground.
Bazanti bootin al zootin al hoot and Al Cohn
Sharing this apartment with a telephone pole
Fishnet stockings, spike-heel shoes,
Strip tease, prick tease, car keys blues;
And the porno floor show, live nude girls,
Dreamy and creamy and brunette curls
Chesty Morgan and Watermelon Rose:
Raise my rent and take off all your clothes.
With trench coats, magazines, a bottle full of rum:
She's so good, make a dead man come!
Pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze.
Wrinkles and Cherry and Twinkie and Pinkie and Fifi live from Gay Paree!
Fanfares, rim shots, back stage, who cares, all this hot burlesque for me.
(scat)

Cleavage! Cleavage! Thighs and hips
From the nape of her neck to her lipstick lips.
Chopped and channeled and lowered and lewd
And the cheater slicks and baby moons.
She's a-hot and ready, creamy and sugared
And the band is awful and so are the tunes.
(scat)

Crawling on her belly, and shaking like jelly,
And I'm getting harder than Chinese algebra – ssieres
And cheers from the (hmm) compendium here.
"Hey sweetheart" they're yelling for more:
Squashing out the cigarette butts on the floor.
I like Shelly, you like Jane:
What was the girl with the snakeskin's name?
And it's an early-bird matinee, come back any day,
Get you a little something that you can't get at home.
Get you a little something that you can't get at home.

It's pasties and a G-string, beer and a shot
Portland through a shot glass and a Buffalo squeeze.
Popcorn, front row, higher than a kite, and all be back tomorrow night,
And all be back tomorrow night.”

Now I want to go a lot further on, to 1992, when Waits came back “out of the wilderness”, so to speak, with his first studio album in five years. The classic “Frank's wild years” was the album that preceded this, so he had a lot to live up to. In typical Waits fashion though, he didn't care, and went about making a totally different album, once again changing his sound, confounding his critics, and astounding and delighting his fans.
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Black wings, from “Bone Machine”, 1992 (Asylum)

The song itself is almost a mid-paced ballad, with country and folk themes, but concerns a mysterious stranger, who could be really anyone from the Devil to Death to God, and is similarly shrouded in folklore and innuendo as Nick Cave's unnamed stranger in “Red right hand”. His exploits, real or imagined, true or embellished, are listed by Waits as he sings, his voice almost a mutter for most of the song. He speaks of the stranger killing a man with a guitar string, and riding through dreams on a coach, and at the end he declares that everyone who has ever seen him denies it, or possibly forgets it happened.

”Take an eye for an eye,
Take a tooth for a tooth
Just like they say in the Bible.
Never leave a trace or forget a face
Of any man at the table.
When the moon is a cold chiseled dagger
Sharp enough to draw blood from a stone
He rides through your dreams on a coach and horses
And the fence posts in the moonlight look like bones.

Well they've stopped trying to hold him
With mortar, stone and chain:
He broke out of every prison.
Boots mount the staircase ---
The door is flung back open:
He's not there for he has risen.
He's not there for he has risen.

Well he once killed a man with a guitar string.
He's been seen at the table with kings.
Well he once saved a baby from drowning;
There are those who say beneath his coat there are wings.
Some say they fear him.

Some say they fear him,
Others admire him
Because he steals his promise.
One look in his eye
Everyone denies
Ever having met him.
Ever having met him.

He can turn himself into a stranger.
Well they broke a lot of canes on his hide.
He was born away in a cornfield:
A fever beats in his head just like a drum inside.
Some say they fear him
Others admire him
Because he steals his promise.
One look in his eye
Everyone denies
Ever having met him.
Ever having met him.”

And finally we come to the weirdest of the weird (and with Waits, that's saying something!), a track taken from the album “Mule variations”, and like “Pasties and a g-string” it's essentially a stripped-down track with little music, which centres on Waits' compulsion to find out what his neighbour is up to, there in his house, day after day, night after night. It of course references the middle-class/suburban obsession with anything that might seem odd or out of place, especially anything that might drive property values down. Anyone who is seen to be different, in any way, immediately becomes the target of suspicion and paranoia, and all sorts of ideas are put forward as to what might be going on in that mysterious house.

The idea is given a real veneer of menace, the music weird and spooky, and Waits' ominous theories about what the guy is doing adding weight to what may in all possibility be something quite innocent, but is made dark and disturbing due to its unknown nature. Waits' voice gets increasingly annoyed and intense as he keeps asking the same question, over and over again, frustrated that he can't find out or figure out what's taking place in that house every night. He keeps adding up the “evidence” --- he has ”subscriptions to those magazines” though we're not told what sort of magazines, lending this comment its own dark mystery, and ”There's poison underneath the sink... enough formaledhyde to choke a horse” and the ultimate crime, the one that clinches he must be up to something, ”He has no children of his own”.

The lyric ends on the almost angry and frustrated words that have caused more trouble than most others: ”We have a right to know”.Suburban paranoia at its most intense and naked, and the song ends with a suitably ominous whistle. Genius, with a capital G. Again. Who else could write this stuff?

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What's he building? From “Mule Variations”, 1999 (ANTI-)


”What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?
He has subscriptions to those magazines...
He never waves when he goes by!
He's hiding something from the rest of us...
He's all to himself... I think I know why.
He took down the tire swing from the peppertree:
He has no children of his own, you see.
He has no dog and he has no friends and his lawn is dying...
And what about all those packages he sends?

What's he building in there?
With that hook light on the stairs.
What's he building in there?
I'll tell you one thing:
He's not building a playhouse for the children!
What's he building in there?

Now what's that sound from underneath the door?
He's pounding nails into a hardwood floor...
And I swear to god I heard someone moaning low...
And I keep seeing the blue light of a T.V. show...
He has a router and a table saw...
And you won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw!
There's poison underneath the sink of course,
But there's also enough formaldehyde to choke a horse...
What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?

I heard he has an ex-wife in some place
Called Mayors Income, Tennessee
And he used to have a consulting business in Indonesia...
But what is he building in there?
What the hell is building in there?

He has no friends but he gets a lot of mail...
I'll bet he spent a little time in jail...
I heard he was up on the roof last night
Signalling with a flashlight.
And what's that tune he's always whistling?
What's he building in there?
What's he building in there?

We have a right to know... “