360 records from the year 2000: 155 - 151

155. Paul Weller: Heliocentric

Modlife crisis?
It’s difficult to separate man from artist when it comes to Weller. He puts himself front and centre every chance he gets, so it’s not like I started it. But he seems a curiously flawed specimen of a human to be so self-righteous and judgemental. That’s how it’s always struck me.
No surprise then that I’ve kept my distance from the Weller-oeuvre, be it in its clumsy attempt at punk-, clumsy attempt at soul-, clumsy attempt at hi gloss pop-, clumsy attempt at jazz-, clumsy attempt at house- or clumsy attempt at wooden rock-phases.

But flaws and self-righteous men and clumsy attempts and self-doubt, are the stuff from which emotionally charged rock can be made of. And he [gritted teeth]makes a good show of it[/gritted teeth]. It’s a mid-tempo record, languid acoustic guitar reveries. He’s not completely gotten around to the concept that a song should have a melody, but any slack is picked up in the sumptuous and detailed arrangements. Guitars, pianos, hurdy-gurdy’s, moogs, glockenspiels, bells, Robert Kirby’s string arrangements are all mixed up in a thick syrup of sound. And over the top Weller sings of the trials and tribulations of the modern middle aged Mod.

Maybe I just enjoy the sound of him in pain.

At its best: Sweet pea, my sweet pea, Dust and rocks, Love-less

154. Catherine wheel: Wishville

Of all the records in this list, ‘Wishville’ gets a particular ripping on AllMusic, a 1 ½ star review: ‘And while we're in Wishville, let's wish this isn't anyone's introduction to the band. They might find it to be decent modern rock, but the deck would be stacked against a newbie exploring the rest of the band's fruitful and adventurous catalog’.

So, that’s where I come in, introducing myself to the band.

Going by this record, Catherine Wheel aim for the Big Rock. Foursquare rhythms moving like tectonic plates until they, always, explode in anthemic choruses. A frontman who’s really standing in front, declaiming romantic visions linking band and audience in the shackles of Life. What would Bono think?

My poor brain isn’t equipped to write a defence of this very good record, so have I indoctrinated myself with suspicion of the Big Rock. But for the duration I feel I’m in the audience. I may not be holding a lighter in the air, I may not be stretching my arms out to touch the hem of their garments, but I’m there and I’m not thinking about a bathroom break. Sorry, brain.

At its best: What we want to believe in, All of that, Idle life

153. Kathryn Williams: Little black numbers

Hushed, earnest, poetic. It’s easy to get cynical about records like this, too much like diary-entry poetry from a young man/woman who needs to live a little. But that’s just its charm. And besides it’s pretty self-assured, and that’s what keeps it on the right track. The obvious sign posts are Nick Drake and, even more, 70s John Martyn, but really, this deserves to stand on its own. It’s a worthwhile record to discover, it won’t give up all of its essence the first or even the fifth time around, but slowly it reveals itself.

At its best: Soul to feet, Jasmine hoop, Tell the truth as if it were lies

152. Wilco & Billy Bragg: Mermaid avenue Vol 2

So many trajectories intersect on this album, it takes a flowchart to keep track:

1. How many records get/deserve a sequel – you know, a real Empire Strikes Back Volume 2? The first installment of the ‘Mermaid Avenue’ project (briefly, Billy Bragg and Wilco interpreting lyrics from the Woody Guthrie estate) generated a mass of public goodwill. I don’t know if many people actually listened to the record. I know I never did. But it seemed like a worthy thing to do, I guess. And so in this case, a sequel was on the table. And duly delivered. Rumor has it the second one isn’t nearly as good as the first one, but I wouldn’t know about that.

2. Just as most people have a different favorite Beatles album, most people have a different ‘Wilco started their decline’ moment (yes, right at the start is acceptable too). I place the moment earlier than most, right after 1996’s ‘Being there’, so this is the early years of the long downward slope still. Tweedy delivers mostly excellent material and all of the highlights of the record. ‘Airline to heaven’ sounds like its title, melody taking flight and bouncy rhythms. ‘Secret of the sea’ and ‘Remember the mountain bed’ are ruminative ballads, with a nice hopeful silver lining. ‘Someday some morning sometime’ is a great optimistic breeze, so simple it sounds like eternal wisdom, so light on a bed of acoustic guitar, Wurlitzer and bells that it could just float out of the window (think ‘Buckets of rain’ on ‘Blood on the tracks’). On the other hand there’s the ineffectual grind of ‘Feed of man’ and the generic ‘I’ll write one on the Farfisa’ melody of ‘Blood of the lamb’.

3. Does Billy Bragg have a trajectory? It takes a long walk to get from one end of his house to the other, I guess. He scores a higher batting average than usual here, three of his nine contributions are ok (‘I was born’, ‘Against th’ law’, ‘Black wind blowing’) and one I find actively pretty (‘My flying saucer’). It helps of course that he can’t add words of his own. And he lets other people sing three of his songs.

4. Guthrie was doing pretty good for being dead 30 years. Certainly he was writing better lyrics in 2000 than either Bragg or Tweedy.

So there you have it, a real mixed bag. Five excellent songs (see below), a couple more that I wouldn’t turn off, at least five that actively get on my nerves (‘Feed of man’, ‘Hot rod hotel’, ‘Stetson Kennedy’, ‘All you fascists’, ‘Meanest man’). No ‘Empire strikes back’ but as sequels go, better than most. I’m happy for the five excellent songs, but they can’t support the album to greatness.

Edit: I’m still of the same opinion, but you could make a really nice album with these: ‘Airline to heaven’, ‘My flying saucer’, ‘I was born’, ‘Secret of the sea’, ‘Remember the mountain bed’, ‘Against th’law’, ‘Joe DiMaggio done it again’, ‘Black wind blowing’, ‘Someday some morning sometime’.

Edit later: A damn fine edited album actually.

At its best: Airline to heaven, My flying saucer, Secret of the sea, Remember the mountain bed, Someday some morning sometime
151. Josh Rouse: Home

Josh Rouse carves another notch on his belt on his way to becoming one of the best old fashioned pop songwriters of the 2000s.

This is a difficult record for me to judge. I saw Josh Rouse perform with his current (excellent) Spanish band a couple of months ago. It was a long evening filled with great songs. Josh played none of the songs on this album, and I didn’t miss them. (Btw, Rouse is a curious diminutive figure in real life. Looking rather eternally glum, he opens his mouth and sings wonderful melody lines, all the while seemingly castigating himself for mistakes no one else can – what I imagine experiencing Paul Simon from up close must be like, though at least Rouse chose to live in the place whose sounds he started to exploit).

Maybe I’m in danger of underestimating this record – all the time comparing it to other, better, Josh Rouse records. Records on which he’d found his voice and his producer of choice, Brad Jones (Jones produces one track on ‘Home’, its highlight ‘Directions’). But on its own merits, it stands up proud among the records of 2000. Maybe I’m in danger of overestimating it – valuing in it the ways it makes me think of other, better, Josh Rouse records. I like the guy, so I’m halfway there before the song even starts, you know.

Well… see you on your other records, Josh!

At its best: Laughter, Directions