I’ve kind of taken over Twitter recently and neglected the blog completely, other than posting the chart. My bad. You can spank me anytime you want, and I will beg for mercy, until… oh hang on, wrong Wordpress account. Anysorryaboutthat, you might have discovered that my chart has been populated by people that have not previously been present there, and here’s a bit more about them…

M.I.A.’s “/\/\/\Y/\” has completely conquered me, but it has taken WEEKS of listening to do so. At first listen the record seems an impenetrable wall of random noises (the fact that “Steppin’ Up”) is the first song isn’t helping, as it’s probably the weirdest production on the album), but once you get past the screeching and booming, you discover amazing lyrics and great melodies. In particular “Lovalot” is a political song of such intensity that hair on my back stands up as I listen to M.I.A. intoning the lyrics in an icy monotone — “I really love Allah… but I fight the ones that fight me”. One for people who used to love Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation 1814″ and wish that instead of moist pussy ballads Janet would do a truly groundbreaking, innovative record that, somehow, you still can shake your booty to. (5/5)

Major Lazer’s EP “Lazers Never Die” I discovered completely accidentally, when finding out Switch and Diplo have a band and that the band has a funny name. And then I listened to “Sound of Siren” which happens to feature M.I.A. on vocals and Major and me have been inseparable ever since. Even the final track on the EP, bearing the uber-scary “Thom Yorke remix” credit, is surprisingly listenable. The first three tracks are absolutely top notch, though — a full-length album featuring three singles as amazing as “Sound of Siren”, “Good Enuff” and “Bruk Out” would already find itself duly purchased by yours truly, and this EP throws those three one next to each other. While the album that preceded the EP, “Guns Don’t Kill People… Lazers Do” hasn’t completely conquered me, this EP did. Goooooood shit. (4.5/5)

Rusko’s “O.M.G.” features Rusko’s “gorgeous” face and an exhaled puff of smoke on the cover. Yeah, I used to think this kind of photo was very cool, too. I was a bit younger then. True to form, Rusko’s album is… a bit… juvenile. (Yes, I just said something is more juvenile than Major Lazer’s lyrics.) There are highlights, like “Rubadub Shakedown” or the lead single, “Woo Boost”, but the whole collection just… drags on forever, let down by the heavy-on-high-frequencies mastering and samey sounds throughout. Had “O.M.G.” been a five-track EP, like “Lazers Never Die”, it would have been way more listenable. (2.5/5)

Janelle Monae’s “Archandroid: Suites II and III” is… brilliant. Her voice goes from a low spoken-verse into emotional shrieks, she looks like an alien (or a member of Jackson family), and the combo of “Cold War” and “Tightrope” is so incredible that I ended up charting both because one just wasn’t enough. If there is one thing that I find problematic with “Archandroid” is that suddenly I realise why some people hate Janet’s interludes — “Archandroid” is two “suites”, and, um, the pseudo-classical bits and the fact most tracks segue into each other doesn’t convince in the age of ipods, playlists and EPs. Nevertheless the combo of “Dance or Die” and “Faster” is so flawless that even I have to admit it’s difficult to imagine those two NOT being segued. (4/5)

Based on the minireviews before, coupled with the fact that I am an old man *cough cough* who gets late to parties (none of those records is really new, and I am painfully aware of that fact), what else would you recommend to me?

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.

As you might have noticed, “Tenderoni” has so far spent five weeks at my number one spot and is about to continue presiding over the top 30 for a bit longer. With that in mind, I have been expecting The Boxer with both excitement and fear: can the full set stand up to the brilliance of the single?

Spoiler alert: yes.

At mere 42 minutes and 10 songs, The Boxer accomplishes something that Bloc Party never quite managed: it contains no filler. (I shamefully admit that while I own all the Bloc Party albums and enjoy them sporadically, I have never managed to listen to one from beginning to end without skipping tracks.) All the songs are exciting and lively, even if hardly any of them is immediate; the album requires 4-5 listens to open up. This is a bit odd, seeing as there really isn’t much on it that couldn’t pass for Bloc Party songs; “Unholy Thoughts” sounds not quite different to “Hunting For Witches”, “On The Lam” with its amazing two-step beat and high-pitched vocal (that had fans, including myself, falling for the theory that it is sung by a woman) isn’t really that distant from “Your Visits Are Getting Shorter”. Yes, there’s very little guitar and a lot of soaring synths, but really, once you get over that problem (if a problem it is for you), you discover The Boxer is, really, yet another Bloc Party album, just better than they used to be before. You can take a boy out of the indie band, but you can’t take the indie band out of the boy?

A different question is: what is the point of this record? Kele suggests in an Attitude interview (accompanied by dazzlingly colourful cute pictures showing off a lot of toned, muscled Keleflesh) that he wants to be a “black, gay, edgy pop star”. Hmmm. This isn’t an album that makes someone a pop star. It’s very, excuse the pun, intimate and at the same time weird; it’s nowhere close to Britneys and N’Dubzes of today’s charts. (The lead single “Tenderoni” debuted at mere #31 despite being A-listed at Radio One — a far cry from the last Bloc Party release “One More Chance”’s #15 — and I am at loss as to what other song on the album could outperform it.) It’s brilliant, edgy, queer and definitely not going to make him a pop star — unless when you think of pop stars your first association with the phrase is M.I.A.

So, what is the point of this record? If it is to prove that Kele can do it alone, mission accomplished — it works perfectly. But I think that the reasons why this album had to be recorded are not completely musical; Kele mentions in the Attitude interview that one other Bloc Party member told him not to discuss his sexuality in interviews when the band was about to become big, and that has never been forgiven. And so, after kickboxing lessons, a haircut and months of celibacy, here is the result — and just like Viva Hate before it, the main lesson that comes from it is: he will walk tall, he will rise, he is stronger than he thinks, and the rest of the band can bugger off, for he can do it on his own — which is a sentiment that happens to perfectly encompass my own feelings in the last few weeks. As for whether anyone else but loners, freaks and black gay kickboxers will be interested, remains to be seen — but hey, it’s not like there really exists a better audience for any record than loners, freaks and black gay kickboxers.

Kele’s The Boxer is out tomorrow, June 21.

When the second Scissor Sisters album, Ta Dah came out a few years ago, I was somewhat excited about it. Then I played it. And then I stopped being excited about it.

The original version of their debut, the one containing “Electrobix”, “Bicycling With The Devil”, “Doctor (I’m Only Seeing Dark)” and “Monkey Baby” might have been not as accomplished musically as the album that actually saw the light of day, but oh dear, was it fun. The lyrics were dirty, silly and gay. And then most of the fun, silly stuff has been removed from the album and replaced by critically acclaimed, easily accessible pop music.

That process continued for album number two. Ta Dah, promoted by anthemic (to some, anaemic to some others) single “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’” didn’t have any of that silly fun left. It was safe, background music. In fact, it was so background, I didn’t notice whether I was listening to it or not, so I decided to listen to something else. Something that I would actually notice.

After that experience I wasn’t excited about the third album all that much, until I’ve heard that Sir Ian McKellen was on “Invisible Light”. After that I had to listen, and — as you can see from “Invisible Light” being in top 5 of my chart for the last few weeks — I was suitably blown away. Apparently the Sisters recorded their third album, then scrapped it and recorded a completely different one. I don’t know what their original effort sounded like, but while “Invisible Light” is the best song on Night Work, all the others are great too.

There is nothing half as anaemic as “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’” on the album. Mind you, that means there’s nothing there that could possibly hit the UK number one. And with this cover art I can hardly see grannies buying copies for their grandkids. Which might be a good thing, seeing as Jake explained to Popjustice months ago:

“The defining moment for that was… Well, I had a moment. I was at a sex party in Mannheim, I was on the dancefloor. It was six o’clock in the morning. I was wearing a little rubber wrestling singlet. I was having a great time. There was a cloud in the room, this cloud of man sweat, cigarettes, spilled booze, shit because people were getting fisted, and poppers. And piss! It was disgusting… The most vile place I’ve ever been. And I was dancing, and the DJs put on “Walk The Night” by the Skatt Brothers. It’s one of my favourites. It was one of those revelatory moments for me when I realised what I wanted the album to sound like and how I wanted it to make me feel.”

I remember reading that interview when it came out and thinking, ewww. Not sure I want to hear THAT. But luckily where Xtina fails with her laughable lyrics about licky licky yum yum woohoos, Shears excels with double entendres and dark humour. Even in “Any Which Way” (which, by the way, is perfect), when Ana Matronic goes on about the man who smells like “cocoa butter and cash” taking her “in front of the fireplace, in front of your yacht, in front of my parents” she refrains from using the words “pussy”, “vagina” or “woohoo”.

“Harder You Get”, another of my favourites, features Jake in loooooooow register going on about “toughening you up”. “The harder you get/The harder I sweat/Never too wet to want it all”, the chorus goes, and I am at the same time marvelling about how commercial this song is and trying hard to stop imagining that sex party in Mannheim. “It is my heaven/The loaded weapon/Don’t point that thing at me unless you plan to shoot”. Ooo-errr, mister Shears.

Why did I ramble about the unreleased first album at the beginning of this review? Because all the fun and sleaze are present here, and at the same time musicianship is at its absolute best. There is not much Elton here, but there is lots of Frankie, Soft Cell and Pet Shop Boys. (While most seem to think “Sex And Violence” should be mashed with “Smalltown Boy”, to me it’s what Pet Shop Boys should consider sounding like sometime very soon.) Jake’s voice effortlessly moves between the growl of “Harder You Get” and the Bee Gees registers of “Any Which Way”. Ana provides her bits on “Any Which Way” and gets a song all of her own with “Skin This Cat”.

In fact, even the official lead single, “Fire With Fire”, which has nothing in common with the rest of the album whatsoever, is gorgeous. The tale about falling into a deep dark hole and then emerging from it stronger than ever will ring with just about anyone. There’s nothing about sex in this particular song, which is most probably exactly why it became the lead single, but even if it doesn’t make sense as part of this album, it still remains a great song.

Can you tell I love Night Work? It’s like the band that continued delivering not-quite-well-baked product for a long time has finally decided to get it together and kick our asses. Kick, fist, whatever. It works. Musically, production-wise (listen out for the TINY Kylie sample in “Something Like This” — I missed it and had to have it pointed out to me!), lyrically, this is Scissor Sisters’ best effort and a 10 out of 10 if I heard one.

Xtina’s new album, Bionic, gets panned by critics and fans left right and centre. In the meantime, I enjoy it an awful lot.

Perhaps the key to the album’s success chez Ray is that it sounds nothing like Christina Aguilera. Even her voice doesn’t hit the irritating registers too much. “Elastic Love”, in particular — the best track on the album, and a collaboration with MIA — could have been sung by more or less anyone. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.

The album was advertised as enormous change and artistic evolution. The finished product isn’t that shocking; the Ladytron tracks got relegated to bonus track on deluxe edition status, Le Tigre and Peaches feature on a grand total of one (the same) song and most of the material is produced by the commercial heavyweights Polow da Don, Tricky Stewart and Linda Perry. The resulting record is one of those albums of the last 3-4 years that have no personality of their own, as they have been A&Red to death and sound more like a greatest hits type of collection than an actual record. (The deluxe edition crams 23 songs into a CD, 24 in the iTunes version. It isn’t humanly possible to create a coherent album of 24 tracks.)

The lyrics are shocking, though. Namely, they are shockingly bad. It’s like Christina decided that Janet Jackson has hit the right spot when she started writing songs about her vajayjay. By the process of listening to Xtina’s artistic reinvention our lives are enhanced by such gems as: “Is this me? You wanna get crazy? Cos I don’t give a WHAAAAAOUW!!”, “You know you really wanna (hey) wanna taste my woohoo/you know you really wanna get a peak, wanna see my woohoo” and “even though we made sweet love all night/I need sex for breakfast, feels so right”. Yes, dear. We get it. You have a constantly wet pussy. And then all of a sudden we hear a male voice talking to Christina’s son — “sing like mommy”, the voice insists, and we get a strange feeling that we are listening to Pedobear’s new favorite record.

So now that I listed all that is bad with the record? I suppose I should explain why I enjoy it. It is, frankly, dance music of highest quality. Dance music isn’t meant to be deep and poetic. It is meant to be about sex, love (remember Original’s “I Luv U Baby” the lyric of which consisted of the words “I”, “luv”, “u” and “baby”? That was dance lyricism hitting the ultimate perfection) and to be enjoyed at shallowest face value imaginable. All the bullshit about artistic reinvention, Christina? Cut it. Just admit it: you became Britney Spears with a WAY better voice. There’s nothing artistic about “Woohoo” and “Desnudate” and “Glam”. There is a bit of properly amazing artistically challenging music in “Birds of Prey” which I suspect is exactly the reason it was stuck in as a bonus track. This is art for people who take ecstasy every weekend and consider themselves to be liberated and special thanks to that — or, alternatively, it is cheap tabloid-like fodder for people who like to dance, sing out loud and be silly. That would be me. And so I love most of Bionic (with the exception of “My Heart” and perhaps some of the ballads). There is always space on my shelf for cheap dance music — and “Birds of Prey” is so good that had it been the first single, I would have bought into the “artistic reinvention” crap. So if you enjoyed Britney Spears’s Circus, Janet Jackson’s Discipline and Madonna’s Hard Candy, this is more of it, but even better than all those. If, on the other hand, you believe Christina is at her best on “Back to Basics”? avoid “Bionic”.

Download this: “Birds of Prey”, “Elastic Love”, “Woohoo”

Being a Massive Attack fan is an incredibly stressful and frustrating experience. When The 100th Window, their previous studio album was released in 2003, we were promised a disc of outtakes a few months later, a DVD with videos for every song and four singles. We got two singles, disc with outtakes was bundled with Collected in 2006 and the DVD, oh well.

They took their time with their fifth album, releasing a soundtrack to Danny The Dog in 2004 (quite good), Collected (random ‘hits’ collection with two amazing new songs…) in 2006 and continuing assuring us that the new album was ‘almost ready’. Tracks were apparently recorded with Mos Def, Leslie Feist, Dot Allison, Mike Patton, Jhelisa Anderson, Elizabeth Fraser, Beth Orton and Terry Callier. It was at some time rumoured that it would be a double album with CD1 by Del Naja and CD2 by Marshall. They played eight new songs during their 2007 tour. Some of them sounded great. One of them is on the actual album and is its highlight.

The EP “Splitting The Atom” which preceded the album was a bit… concerning. The video that came with it was at best eyebrow-raising — unusually for a band that always put extreme amounts of care into their visuals. The song was a bit of a departure but not exactly superbly exciting. I waited some more and now I can tell whether Heligoland was worth the wait.

It wasn’t. But then, nothing would be after seven years. And those were not seven years of hiatus, those seven years contained tours, endless recording sessions, re-recordings and so on. “Live With Me” released to promote Collected was so amazingly awesome it made me expect a masterpiece. Heligoland is not a masterpiece. But it is a solid, good album which is much more immediate than the paranoia of The 100th Window and contains more variety than I expected or even dared to hope for.

“Pray for Rain”, sung by Tunde Abepimpe, is bloody intense with its “their eyes change as they learn to see through flames/and their necks crane as they turn to pray for rain”. That intensity doesn’t really lighten up much; even the “playful” “Girl I Love You” (the song that used to be “16 Seeter” which I found a much more MA title) is dark and gloomy. “Psyche” sung by the divine Martina Topley-Bird sounds like Six Organs Of Admittance covering Philip Glass (with Martina on vocals). There is a lot to love here — “Paradise Circus” which is probably best described as post-reggae, is what I was hoping Portishead’s Three to be. “Babel” and “Atlas Air” are actual uptempo tracks! By Massive Attack!

The album is a grower — it requires two or three plays before you start distinguishing between songs — but then it DOES grow on you alright. All the drums sound live, which can be a good or bad thing depending on how you look at it. There doesn’t seem to be that much synthesized stuff, which, again, can be good or bad. But generally I would say that Heligoland is an evolution rather than revolution, and it is promising evolution; if only we could hope for a follow-up in 2011, it would be a sign of amazing things to come. But I don’t even believe the promised EP of songs they did on tour will ever materialise; it’s easier not to believe them and then be positively surprised when they actually DO release something.

There is only one bum note on the album and that is “Saturday Come Slow” which mercifully is also very short. Damon Albarn used to be one of my favourite people in rock/pop music, but here his voice sounds irritating and brings the album dangerously close to the territory occupied by Radiohead, i.e. whining with post-rock background music. Those are three minutes you can skip, but they do bring the score down a bit.

One pet peeve: the iTunes LP version will feature “additional artwork” and two bonus remixes. I don’t think Massive Attack fans are ones who are excited by digital-only artwork, and I don’t intend to spend 15 euro on two additional remixes. Also if the only way to get it on vinyl will be a 60 euro box set with three vinyl LPs and a CD, I will have to pass — I love vinyl but not enough to change the sides every 10 minutes. (This was also why I never bought The 100th Window on vinyl.) I hope it isn’t too late for a rethink and a 2LP edition, unless those three LPs include remixes.

Generally, if you liked Blue Lines and nothing afterwards, you will hate this LP. If you liked Mezzanine and The 100th Window but were let down a bit by the amount of filler, you will love this LP. I am quite relieved by what I have heard, and “Girl I Love You”, “Pray For Rain” and “Psyche” are absolute Massive classics. Oh, and people who still insist on calling this music triphop need their ears checked — post-rock is the best description I’m afraid.

Look, I am trying to restart the blog. But thing is, while I have many subjects to write about… it just isn’t working at the moment. Let’s try the music angle, that always works…

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I have seen two gigs in the recent weeks: Depeche Mode and Royksopp. I am a serious (quite) fan of Depeche Mode, owning all their albums and the singles boxes, some solo stuff by Martin and Dave, quite some DVDs, etc. but have never seen them at concert. As for Royksopp, I kind of like some songs, but have never bought an album, other than receiving a copy of Melody AM as a gift.

Royksopp were first, a few weeks ago. The first song was an instrumental midtempo which made me go uh-oh — I was seriously scared the gig was going to be a disaster. But it wasn’t. Karin Dreijer sung amazingly, the music was pumping, the beats were tight, the sound was great and I discovered one of Royksopp is seriously HOT (I would post a pic but for some reason he looks awful on all of them). I’ve had a great time, and I am definitely going again when a chance arises.

I’ve had great hopes for Depeche Mode. The live DVDs were great and I heard they don’t play many songs from their disastrous new album. How surprised was I when they started the gig with three of them: In Chains (which bored the public to tears), Wrong (which I always thought would be great live, and I was, erm, wrong) and Hole To Feed (which, like 11 out of 13 songs on Sounds of the Universe, has no discernible tune). They continued with Walking In My Shoes which should have been great but wasn’t, being the fourth midtempo in a row. Things haven’t improved until Martin’s solo moment, Insight, followed by Home — piano and vocal only — which surprisingly got the best reception of the night except for Enjoy The Silence and Never Let Me Down Again. The sound was flat too throughout the first half, which didn’t help things. Dave, whose voice sounded very strained and bordered on unpleasant, was running around and whooping, which left me wondering if he’s listening to better music on his ipod. Non-musical member mostly raised his hands and lowered them again.

There were bits of the Depeche show I enjoyed thoroughly. The unexpected encore of One Caress; the extended disco mix of Never Let Me Down Again; most of all, probably, Home. It’s just that I listened to Depeche Mode on my way to meet a friend with whom I went. On my way back I listened to Paula Abdul’s greatest hits.

I have just finished the new Marian Keyes book, which made me laugh, cry, think and feel a lot of various emotions, some of which but not all could be contributed to my flu.

The book is thick. (Good thing.) The cover is gold with a pink star in the middle, which kind of identifies the audience rather closely; it is, most probably, gay men and women that will enjoy “The brightest star in the sky” most, and as ever, straight men lose a lot as it is the best book Marian has yet written. The cover will, sadly, ensure that the book is written off as “chick lit” despite the fact that Sophie Kinsella, Helen Fielding and the likes might, just might, get close to approaching Marian Keyes’ talent if they immediately move to the country to spend the next 30 years honing their craft.

Keyes, who started with a book about a woman whose husband leaves her on the day she gives birth and followed it with one about her own stint at rehab, has never shied away from difficult subjects. It takes quite a long time to discover what exactly is the problem that makes one of the couples pop antidepressants every morning; religion, workaholism and many others (which I am really really tempted to reveal but just CAN’T give you spoilers) are tackled, each of them in a manner that suggests lots of research and tact ? yet, never does the book go into the direction of easy sentimentalism or forcing out tears for the sake of it.

It is a book with a LOT of characters. This has become characteristic for Keyes a few books ago ? instead of focusing on one lead character, she will have ten of them, each of them with their own quirks and fancies. Lydia, who very closely resembles Helen Walsh, is my favourite (dear Marian, we’ll have a book about Helen Walsh next. Plskthxbai), but there are older people, younger people, men, women, couples falling in and out of love and lots of delicious sex. I’m not sure if the book warrants as many reads as I gave “Rachel’s Holiday” or “Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married”, but it definitely warrants a second, as it is written similarly to “Sixth Sense” ? it is only after you get close to finish that you realise WHAT exactly you have been reading about, and I can’t wait to see how that knowledge changes my perception.

I do have a bit of criticism, though. At the end of the book Marian thanks the Polish people that helped her with research. I am afraid they were not much help, to be honest. The two male characters refer to each other as Jan and Andrei. First of all, if a Polish person named Jan has a friend, there is no chance in hell that the friend will call them Jan ? it will be Janek or Jasiek. Second, perhaps the name has been changed for easier pronunciation by non-Polish readers, but we don’t actually have people called Andrei in Poland, it’s Andrzej. Similarly, there are no people called Palweski ? Palewski or Pawelski would do, Palweski is not a Polish name.

In fact the only time when a character in the book sounded like a paper silhouette and not an actual human being was when Andrei utters the sentence “Hard as it is for me, a Polish man, to understand, she doesn’t respect either of us.” And he is not even the one who has a poster of pope hanging over his bed.

I would go on and on about brilliance of the book, because it is absolutely worth it ? I may be anal about Polish names, but the fact that someone’s name is Andrei instead of Andrzej isn’t enough to ruin my intense enjoyment of over 600 pages of amazing writing ? it’s just that I am extremely tempted to give spoilers and I know I shouldn’t. So how about you just buy the book right now and read it yourself? It is wildly good. In fact, the only wish I have is that Marian could write as fast as I read, because waiting a year for the follow up isn’t really an option.

Joe Sent Me

“Joe Sent Me” is the first Vanessa Daou album since 2001’s “Make You Love”; it is also her first record not to be produced by Peter Daou. It sounds both familiar and very, very different to her previous work. The voice is different; less sweet, less processed, more raw and with a slightly rough edge. The sound is very different too, and that’s a good thing.

The Peter Daou production, so revolutionary in its sensual sound on 1994’s “Zipless” hasn’t evolved much. The slightly more daring excursions into jazz and drum’n'bass on “Dear John Coltrane,” were gone from “Make You Love”. While “Make You Love” undoubtedly perfected the electronic sound of the Daous, it was barely daring sonically; tracks like “Show Me” or “Juliette” could have been anyone’s, “Aphrodite” or “A Little Bit of Pain” would have sounded perfectly in place on seven years old “Zipless”.

“Joe Sent Me” is dramatically different. There is jazz, and there is electronica, and there is Vanessa’s voice, but that’s about all that connects those records. “Hurricanes” reminds me of Air’s “Virgin Suicides”. “True” is Vanessa’s voice and acoustic guitar — SHOCKING!!1! “Black And White” sounds like some strange collaboration between Goldfrapp and a jazz band. “Life Force”, incredibly intrinsic sonically (this is very much a headphones record) and “Manifesto” wouldn’t fit on any previous Daou record — and I suspect that’s why it opens the album, a true manifesto of a new sound. “Love Lives In The Dark” sounds like Massive Attack (and oh my, the thought of Vanessa working with Massive Attack makes me ecstatic). This is very much a new record by an artist who hasn’t said her final word.

The sexiness and sensuality, always present in Vanessa’s records, take a new dimension here; she isn’t the androgynous girl who sung “Sunday Afternoons” anymore — she is, very much, a very grown up woman. The girl is still present in the songs like “Heart Of Wax”; but it is a very different person who wrote “Joe Sent Me”. “And don’t be thinking/you’re the only one/who knows” she warns, and shivers go down my spine. “Here’s the pen you gave me/to write my poetry/I said I’d give it back to you the day you stop inspiring me/Here’s the glass, it’s empty” begins “Black And White” and, again, the thrill is almost physical. Those lyrics were worth waiting seven years for.

The album has weaker points, but not many. “Consequences”, dancey and melodical in its Blank + Jones incarnation, sounds strangely flat here, as if the band was playing a different song to the one Vanessa is singing. Replace it with the Blank + Jones version and you’re done. “Once In A While” isn’t exactly a bad track, it’s just the least remarkable in this collection, drifting nowhere for its 5 minutes and 24 seconds. That’s it. The rest is all essential listening. Especially “Black And White”, sublime “Heart Of Wax” and “Joe Sent Me” should make it into everyone’s sonic libraries, like, NOW.

Which brings me to a really strange point — it looks like the album is ONLY available through www.daourecords.com (where I purchased it). It is a beautiful release, the physical CD looks much better than the scans available online, but in this day and age it is commercial suicide to ignore any digital vendors. Personally I like the fact Vanessa Daou is such a well hidden secret, but the fan in me wishes to see her topping the charts everywhere, and I don’t think selling the CD only through her website is going to help her achieve that. This album deserves much more recognition; and Vanessa deserves to make enough money to finance another release. So please buy it, everyone.

Vanessa Daou myspace
Vanessa Daou website
Daou Records