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BARRY ADAMSON, "THE KING OF NOTHING HILL"
Mute
Who else but Barry Adamson to bring blaxploitation soundtracks into the 21st Century? As with the previous album, 1998's 'As above, So below', these songs are predominantly vocal based, albeit steeped in familiar film noir trappings. For in Mr. Adamson's Murky World, Cinema is King. His fictional frames are backed with a deftly orchestrated mixture of genres, including samples of badass brethren like Ike Turner, Cypress Hill and John Coltrane. Concerning the fiery, fun funk of opener "Cinematic Soul," Adamson proudly declares, "this is the stone groove I've been dying to rock with all my life." Indeed! Even his enthusiastic young son can't resist joining in 'cause, after all, "what is a song if you can't sing along?" "Whispering Streets" follows suit with more dramatic funkiness as Adamson unconvincingly pleads, "I don't even know how the gun got in my hand." In the dreamy, strings soaked '70s soul styling of "Black Amour," he becomes the slicker than Shaft character "Satisfaction Jackson." SJ confesses, "I want you, I need you, I love you," nicely enough, but then adamantly insists, "hold my freaky hand." "Twisted Smile" is low and slow, hazy and lazy as the, "everyone is everyone," line loops in epilogue. Of the three (essentially) instrumentals, "Le Matin Des Noire," (Archie Shepp) is my fave. For over ten minutes an organ-flecked vibes groove vamps into the background as the hustle and bustle of Parisian streets becomes the foreground. "That Fool Was Me" sees Adamson diversifying his discography even further as horns and harmonica add Dixieland dynamics. Sweetly singing, "something about you baby and they all agree," Adamson then admits "only a fool would leave you and that fool was me". For the climax of the duet finale, "Cold Comfort," an inquisitive refrain of, "sugar babe?" is overpowered by mighty drum rolls and orchestral curtain call. Damn. Damn! Just another highly cinematic masterpiece, no sweat. Barry Adamson, the coolest motherfucker on the planet? Probably. 'The King of Nothing Hill' my album of the year? Probably. Check barryadamson.com for forthcoming European tour dates and other goodies.
Who else but Barry Adamson to bring blaxploitation soundtracks into the 21st Century? As with the previous album, 1998's 'As above, So below', these songs are predominantly vocal based, albeit steeped in familiar film noir trappings. For in Mr. Adamson's Murky World, Cinema is King. His fictional frames are backed with a deftly orchestrated mixture of genres, including samples of badass brethren like Ike Turner, Cypress Hill and John Coltrane. Concerning the fiery, fun funk of opener "Cinematic Soul," Adamson proudly declares, "this is the stone groove I've been dying to rock with all my life." Indeed! Even his enthusiastic young son can't resist joining in 'cause, after all, "what is a song if you can't sing along?" "Whispering Streets" follows suit with more dramatic funkiness as Adamson unconvincingly pleads, "I don't even know how the gun got in my hand." In the dreamy, strings soaked '70s soul styling of "Black Amour," he becomes the slicker than Shaft character "Satisfaction Jackson." SJ confesses, "I want you, I need you, I love you," nicely enough, but then adamantly insists, "hold my freaky hand." "Twisted Smile" is low and slow, hazy and lazy as the, "everyone is everyone," line loops in epilogue. Of the three (essentially) instrumentals, "Le Matin Des Noire," (Archie Shepp) is my fave. For over ten minutes an organ-flecked vibes groove vamps into the background as the hustle and bustle of Parisian streets becomes the foreground. "That Fool Was Me" sees Adamson diversifying his discography even further as horns and harmonica add Dixieland dynamics. Sweetly singing, "something about you baby and they all agree," Adamson then admits "only a fool would leave you and that fool was me". For the climax of the duet finale, "Cold Comfort," an inquisitive refrain of, "sugar babe?" is overpowered by mighty drum rolls and orchestral curtain call. Damn. Damn! Just another highly cinematic masterpiece, no sweat. Barry Adamson, the coolest motherfucker on the planet? Probably. 'The King of Nothing Hill' my album of the year? Probably. Check barryadamson.com for forthcoming European tour dates and other goodies.
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