Sydney's MICHAEL CARPENTER'S work is liable to provoke one of two reactions. The first is Envy because he has has own studio, writes fantastically melodic Power Pop of the finest calibre, plays and sings just about everything on his albums and has knocked out the kind of formidable (if admittedly rather undersung) back catalogue that most of us would accept at least a manslaughter sentence for. The second is Psychosis. Think about it: this is a guy who's bringing up a couple of kids, produces more bands than most of us can stomach hot dinners, is on to his eighth solo release and is doing a Masters degree just in case five spare minutes dare to poke fun at his schedule. On paper, it's enough to have most folk running up a brace of white flags and screaming “I can't cope!” repeatedly.
'Redemption #39' is the long-awaited follow-up to Carpenter's marvellous 2004 LP 'Rolling Ball', though of course he's since released his semi-official covers record 'SOOP #2' and the excellent Supahip album in tandem with Hitchcock's Regret's Mark Moldre. On the face of it, the 'psychotic' reaction might have caught up with him along the way in the sense that most of these songs were written during a 'mid-life crisis' of sorts. The album's title 'Redemption #39' refers pointedly to the fact that Carpenter began writing these songs when he was 39 and waiting for that mythical 'mid-life' age of 40 to come around and the author himself freely confesses that many of them are the result of “witnessing relationships breaking down, people making mistakes...painting themselves in corners.” He also openly admits he probably “needed a little saving” himself and wanted to wait until he could value the album for what it is.
Well, from a listener's point of view, we should be very glad that he came to that decision. Because while 'Redemption #39' may come from a standpoint of vulnerability and self-doubt, it's also an absolute melodic dream of a record to enjoy. Yes, I'm more than aware that us reviewers are constantly confronted by albums made by artists who reckon their latest record is “their best yet”, but in this case that blandest of bland PR statements rings true. 'Redemption #39' is a great record with precious few weak links and one you'll enjoy for yonks to come.
It's not that Carpenter is re-inventing wheels or relentlessly shoving sonic envelopes or any of those cliched old whines. He does admit to some studio nerd-ery, employing a mixdown technique that involves hard panning the bass and drums to the furthest extremes of the stereo, but unless you're a regular headphone listener, all you'll hear are great songs performed with feeling, an underlying tinge of melancholy and further proof that Power Pop remains as alive as ever.
Lyrically, it's true that uncertainty and regret often rear their heads. Opener 'Can't Go Back' immediately opines “I can't go back to how it used to be/ too much has come to pass for you to see” but when it's allied to well-struck power chords, spangly guiar melodies and Carpenter's gleeful Moon-esque drum clatter, the effect is never less than uplifting. It's by no means the only tune that rocks hard either. The anti-rat race invective of 'Workin' For A Livin'' is dispatched with a crisp, John Fogerty-esque efficiency and the wonderful 'I Want Everything' is quintessntial Carpenter-style Power Pop, full of stinging riffs, instant rushes of choruses and cute, Ramones-y bits.
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But even when his emotions turn a deeper shade of blue, you'll want to be sad with him. Despite sporting a revenge-fuelled title, 'I'm Not Done With You' has a finely-wrought, world-weary feel which brings Ray Davies to mind. The self-deprecatory 'King of the Scene' finds Carpenter's inevitable Beach Boys/ Buffalo Springfield-style harmonic brilliance bubbling to the surface and – adorned by close-miked vocals and sombre Fender Rhodes piano – 'Don't Let Me Down Again' – finds him crafting a crestfallen ballad of admirable quality.
Hearteningly, he sounds ready to face up to the future as the album nears its' conclusion. 'Sinking' marries some effective, psychedelic tinges (slow fever guitars, eerie, 'Satantic Majesties' mellotron) with a great, rising-from-the-ashes lyric (“I'm dying but I won't fade away without you”) and of course he's got one more melodic wonder up his sleeve for the finale courtesy of the gorgeous ''Til The End Of Time' where he confesses “nothingness engulfed me until I heard your name” before proceeding to jangle his way into our hearts, backwards guitar solo and all.
This reviewer's the first to admit that you'll have probably decided whether or not you'll chase this album up as soon as you've read the 'Power Pop' reference the first time and, yes, it's probably true that you'll probably 'get' Michael Carpenter quicker if you've a weakness for the big B's in the pop spectrum such as The Beatles, Beach Boys and Big Star. Ultimately, though, while Michael Carpenter may be a huge fan of great Pop, he's very much his own man and the personal crisis behind 'Redemption #39' has only inspired him to make a record that will provoke a third reaction from the listener: sheer pleasure.
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