At first listening Massive Attacks latest offering does wash over you in a fairly ineffectual manner. It has to be said that it’ll probably be a grower, indeed I bought Blue Lines a few years ago and - after a few listens – sold it on to a friend - only to re-hear Unfinished Sympathy a couple of years later, re-buy the album and only then actually “get” it.
However, methinks the laws of diminishing returns (and band members) are at play here. This, their fifth outing (if you include No Protection – the remix album) somehow lacks the otherworldly qualities of the last – Mezzanine – or the sheer wow factor that I eventually saw in Blue Lines. Protection still, for me, anyway, will be their greatest moment. I know that 100th Window could well be someone’s classic album, but they’ll be in the minority.
The ethnic touches here and there sound dated to say the least, Jah Wobble and the like were doing this over 10 years ago. Dance is a tricky bugger, and of course you have to evolve, move on and innovate, but do it in a fresh way for goodness sake, or just stick to the good stuff.
Often this sort of music is asked to be treated as a soundtrack to a film that’s not been made – if you get my drift. If that’s the case then it must be a pretty dreary film as this music washes over you leaving you none the wiser or more informed emotionally. It should, in some way provide a soundscape, an area in your psyche or whatever, in a way that Mezzanine did. Somehow this just sits there, leaving the listener un-engaged, and with the vague notion that it is in fact – pretension incarnate, with little creative involvement beyond contractual obligations.
Sinead O Connor makes 3 appearances, taking Liz Fraser’s place in the vocal booth. Collaborations seem to be a major feature of Massive Attacks repertoire, but usually they bring out something new in their guest – not, however this time – although her voice, as always is amazing. Lyrically it’s the usual mixed bag of steam of consciousness commentary on the modern world – which, in dance terms does beat “There’s no…there’s no…there’s no limit” in intellectual stakes.
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“What Your Soul Sings” and “Special Cases” are two of the highlights for me, partly thanks to Sinead and partly to the latter’s bass line. Horace Andy makes another appearance on “Everywhen” – so some things are as expected and this is, it has to be said classic Massive Attack stuff that could have been on “Protection” or “Blue Lines”, stuff to sink back into.
It must be lonely for Robert Del Naja with “Mushroom” departed and “Daddy G” being “Daddy full time” to his little ones. I expect the mainstay of Massive Attack’s success was the interplay between the band members, take one away and maybe, but two – a recipe for last album syndrome I reckon. I actually think it’s his voice that gets to me most – he’s best at the mixing desk of keyboard or whatever, not in the vocal booth.
“Antistar” sounds very much like Brian Eno form twenty years ago filtered through a remix project (now there’s a concept – although once again we can cite Jah Wobble as a predecessor here with 1995’s “Spinner”)
I’m just not sure yet, after several listens only bits and pieces remain in my head – none of which are terribly inspiring. Maybe you’ll find me sneaking back in to edit this review in a couple of months when I’ve heard it – like today – out shopping – in a Japanese shop in Harrogate, put on to denote the ethnicity of the environs , or as the soundtrack to some television programme about urban decay or ethnic minorities or something else, and decided that, in fact, after another few listens that it’s the best thing since sliced bread (as I know I can do with Massive Attack) – but I doubt it!
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