Missing the cherry on top

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, Apr 13, 2003 | by Graeme Virtue

reviewed goldfrapp black cherry(mute)HHH run dmc greatesthits (arista)HHHh buzzcocks buzzcocks(cherry red)HH various everything is ending here(homesleep)HH

AT a time when everyone wanted things fresh, new and now, Felt Mountain - the debut album from Goldfrapp - was the ultimate slow- burner. Released in September 2000, its freaky, echoey soundscapes floated lazily around the fringes of popular culture for months before seeping in the cracks, slowly being subsumed into the collective consciousness through soundtracking adverts, wafting through shopping spaces and propping up dinner parties. It was - still is - a magnificent record; unconstrained, ambitious, eerie, transportive.

The follow-up Black Cherry, though, is an entirely different beast. Where the band - comprising torch singer Alison Goldfrapp and techhead Will Gregory - could have effortlessly eased further into uncharted sonic territory, sudden, squelchy synth beats keep them solidly anchored, tethered to one plane. This time, the songs sound like songs, where joyously they used to sound like fragments.

Intentionally or not, they've made a terrific dirty disco album - Goldfrapp's voice is as spine-tingling as ever, the cyber-beats clatter satisfyingly, there's a whole lotta lust going on (check those orgasmic sighs on Slippage) - but it's still somehow disappointing.

Maybe they just wanted to rein things in for a while, but for a band who used to sound four-dimensional, this is a frustratingly straightforward record.

Apparently, this Run DMC greatest hits was already in the pipeline when founder member Jam Master Jay was gunned down in a recording studio last October - the murder remains unsolved.

But despite the tragic circumstances, it's actually a fitting tribute, the 19 tracks are testament to the NYC trio's place at the very heart of hip hop. Their successful rock/rap spot-weld of beats and guitar licks paved the way for rap's current dominance of the US music scene. While the tinny Jason Nevins remix of their debut single It's Like That jars slightly, it's still a rock-solid collection, tracks like the mighty My Adidas still sound boxfresh.

The umpteenth album from stop-start punk survivors the Buzzcocks sees them stick to what they do best - three minute blasts of sawing guitar scree. But this time out, the snarly vocals are frustrating low in the mix. You almost miss the line "the switch to double brandies was a big mistake" from the thumping Morning After, a timely reminder that even when you're fortysomething, you can still make such elementary - but ultimately fun - errors of judgement.

The world wasn't exactly crying out for a Pavement tribute album, but Italian label Homesleep has delivered one anyhow. Everything Is Ending Here is a sprawling, indulgent love letter to Stephen Malkmus's idiosyncratic college rock band, signed by 36 fringe bands that range from the obscure to the really, really obscure.

Quickspace, Comet Gain, Truman's Water if these names mean nada to you then it's probably best avoided.

But one of the best efforts comes from Glasgow's own Future Pilot AKA, who contributes a quavery version of the lilting Range Life, sung sweetly in Punjabi.