ASH: KABLAMMO! (2015)
1) Cocoon; 2) Let's Ride; 3)
Machinery; 4) Free; 5) Go! Fight! Win!; 6) Moondust; 7) Evil Knievel; 8)
Hedonism; 9) Dispatch; 10) Shutdown; 11) For Eternity; 12) Bring Back The
Summer.
Well, it looks as if the LP is here to stay,
after all: after all these years of rationalizing about how the format has
outlived itself, and how they are going to stick to the single-song routine
from now on, Tim Wheeler surreptitiously returns to the tried and true — a
monolithic collection of twelve new songs, tied together with a
comic-book-derived title that suggests... huge impact? Well, you wish.
According to the world at large, Ash had had their three-five-ten seconds of
fame twenty years ago, and you might just as well be listening to Gilles
Binchois these days — in fact, I am fairly certain that early medieval
composers have a more loyal fanbase today than slowly aging alt-rockers from
the 1990s. Had they had the most wittily composed and memorable melodies in a
decade, even then this record would hardly cause a ripple. Yes, if you
accumulate enough impulse, like the Stones or Madonna, you're pretty much set
for life — but if you just had a small bunch of alt-rock radio hits twenty
years ago, who gives a damn? You're not even yesterday's news, pal, you're more
like an unknown quantum state.
Why am I bitching about this? Because, believe
it or not, I get the feeling that with Kablammo!,
Wheeler and Co. have produced their finest album in... oh wait... maybe, like, ever. It was curious how that A-Z run of
singles actually helped Wheeler pay more attention to his melodies and avoid
too much filler, but it seems as if the long-term effects, too, have been
beneficial, and these days, Ash just go on writing good songs — not great, earth-shattering,
innovative songs, but just regular power-pop and art-pop songs that sound...
nice. No big pretense, no attempts to change the world, just half an hour of
emotionally charged music.
The lead single and the opening track is
ʽCocoonʼ, and you will not fail to notice that it consists almost exclusively
of clichés — opening with the ʽHard Day's Nightʼ power chord, then launching
into the introduction with some powerhouse Blondie-style drumming, then
superimposing simple falsetto chorus harmonies over chainsaw guitar riffage
(Ramones or My Bloody Valentine?), but it all works out, and there is even an
uplifting, high-pitched power-pop lead line popping up from time to time if
you needed an extra hook. The lyrics? They have no significance, it's just fun
to sing along with "cocoo-oo-waa-oon, cocoo-oo-waa-oon", especially
if you have no problem hitting the falsetto range. Cool song, me likey.
Then comes song number two, which wasn't even a
single: ʽLet's Rideʼ. Guitar fanfare for the announcement, drum bash, a jagged
glam-style guitar riff... the chorus could perhaps use less reliance on grumbly
power chords, but then they rectify things with an added hard rock melody for
the bridge (that's what, two
different riffs in a 2015 pop song? what a reckless waste of material!) and an
ecstatic blubbering solo. No complaining from me.
Okay, that's a little too much Smiths influence
at the beginning of track three, ʽMachineryʼ. But then the Smiths usually
favored slower tempos, and anyway, Wheeler is neither a master of true guitar
jangle nor a fan of theatrical vocal deliveries, so by the time they rise to
the top of that chorus, everything is forgiven. Again, good song. But now
comes the big quest — a ballad! With ʽFreeʼ, you still have a relatively fast
rhythm, echoey psychedelic guitar tones, and another catchy chorus, quietly
burning with longing, yearning, whatever it takes to justify the song title,
and then towards the end you get a restrained, but focused intrusion from some
strings and cellos: another nice touch that was completely unnecessary, but it
feels so good to have it here.
And now comes the really odd part: it's all more or less like that right to the very
end. Nicely constructed, pleasantly executed songs of love, hope, frustration,
and a little nostalgia, one after another. Nothing is particularly
awe-inspiring, but nothing is particularly stupid, either. The two big
orchestrated ballads (ʽMoondustʼ and ʽFor Eternityʼ) echo John Lennon, Elton
John, and ELO rather than Eighties' and post-Eighties power ballads, with more
emphasis on cellos and acoustic guitars than violins and electric guitars
(that's always a good sign); the instrumental ʽEvil Knievelʼ is like a joint
tribute to James Bond themes, spaghetti-western overtures, and Ritchie Blackmore
at the same time; and ʽBring Back The Summerʼ finishes the album on a Beach
Boyish note, so endearing that we can even forget them the inscrutable decision
to use a drum machine. Maybe drum machines are well known for their ability to
bring back the summer.
To put an unnecessarily long story short, Kablammo! keeps it short, simple, but
smart, and I suppose that might just be the only way to go about it in an era
where 99% of conscious attempts to «innovate» just pathetically end up
reinventing the wheel. At any rate, I wouldn't be surprised if it ultimately
turned out to be one of the best rock albums of 2015 — at least, I certainly
wouldn't object to this becoming a reality. Congratulations, Mr. Wheeler, all
you really had to do was open your mind to as many clichés as possible — not
just Nineties clichés, but all the way to the Seventies and Sixties — and then
your mind was able to reshuffle and recombine them in such a surprisingly
refreshing manner. If this is mediocrity, well, gimme more; for now, just a very
grateful thumbs
up, because it is albums like these that show how my obsession with complete
discographies is not always a total OCD-related waste.
But Gilles Binchois was late Medieval, not early Medieval
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