Perfection and almost perfection
Wednesday, June 30th, 2010
There are very few albums that I consider absolutely perfect from start to end, with absolutely no weak track in sight. Charlotte Gainsbourg’s 5:55 is a perfect example — I have, in fact, extended it by two bonus tracks, “Set Yourself On Fire” (bonus on deluxe edition) and “Somewhere Between Waking And Sleeping” (b-side to “The Songs That We Sing”) as the only fault I can find with such a flawless record is that it is TOO DAMN SHORT.
Madonna’s Ray Of Light has relaunched her career after (relative) failures of Bedtime Stories and Erotica, and rightly so. Among the 13 songs, totalling over 60 minutes, there isn’t a single weak one. In fact, there isn’t a single weak MINUTE. It is tempting to dismiss “Mer Girl” as an attempt at copying Bjork, but it is a successful attempt; Madonna’s voice is absolutely perfect throughout, and if there is anything to regret, it is that she never tried to make a record as good as this one afterwards.
New Order’s Technique is another great example: an album of 9 tracks, which pull off both indie rock and dance sound, both of them effortlessly and flawlessly. (For another example of the same feat, and again with Bernard Sumner on vocals, see Electronic’s Electronic.) There is not a single weak moment on Technique; it possesses a kind of magic that eluded all further New Order albums. It is very short — and absolutely, incredibly perfect. It is one of those albums I always wish I wrote.
There are many, many more albums that are ALMOST perfect. One of them is Pet Shop Boys’ Behaviour, let down only by the godawful album version of “How Can You Expect To Be Taken Seriously?”. Massive Attack’s Protection ends with their live version of The Doors’ “Light My Fire” which can be accurately described as “whimsicle”. Marc Almond’s The Stars We Are is let down by the duet version of “Something’s Gotten Hold Of My Heart” which I suppose has to be included seeing it was one of his biggest hits, but really, Gene Pitney’s voice mixes with Almond’s almost as well as mustard with chocolate muffins.
Saint Etienne’s Tiger Bay, which is my favourite record of theirs, sadly contains a filler track — Shara Nelson-sung “On The Shore” — which is pleasant in a very good b-side sort of way, but in all honesty has no right to be included on a record so good. Texas’ White On Blonde would be so much nicer to listen to, had they not decided to include a somewhat off-tune male voice going “hold me tight… hold me tight” in the closer, “Breathless”, sounding as if someone put it there as a joke. Not a very funny one.
The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead (I’m going to get in trouble for that one) is an amazing record. It is considered their biggest classic, and one of the essential, century-defining albums. Which it is. With the exception of “Never Had No One Ever”, which is a very long moan about Morrissey not getting laid. It is moody, atmospheric, sad, desperate, and mind-numbingly boring. “I Know It’s Over”, the previous track on the record, is moody, atmospheric, sad, desperate and incredibly engaging, due to emotion in both the playing and the singing; that emotion is missing from “Never Had No One Ever”, which goes for, excuse the pun, ever. Those are very long 3 minutes and 37 seconds you have to spend waiting for “Cemetry Gates” to kick you out of the “Never…”-induced coma.
Human League’s Dare… another classic, another era-defining record, another one that contains… something odd. “Get Carter” is a minute of irritating sinus-shaped noise. When Human League embarked on their Dare tour, this was played by stone-faced Philip Oakey in its embarrassing entirety. If it’s meant to be a joke, it is a very unfunny one, and if it’s meant seriously… oh god, that only makes it worse. It only lasts a minute, but it is, again, a very long minute.
Depeche Mode, who have also managed to record a perfect album in the shape of Violator, followed it up with Songs of Faith and Devotion. The druggy, hazed atmosphere of that record, complete with Alan Wilder’s legendary, erm, devotion to discovering the most amazing sounds and mixing them until they sound absolutely perfect together, is unfortunately weakened by the album’s fourth single (who? who chose that one? who hated the band so much?) “In Your Room”. My only problem with “In Your Room” is that the room in question doesn’t seem to have a window. The air in that room is stale. And oh my God, at 6:27 the album version drags forever, which was maybe the desired effect — what is it, a sonic equivalent of K-hole? — but every verse would have been made much more bearable had it been shortened by 8 or so lines of text.
I could go on and on, of course. But I typed so much I’d like some audience participation now. What is your choice of a perfect record — and an almost perfect one? Do you agree with my choices, or disagree with them? Let me know in the comments.
