BLACK BOX RECORDER: THE FACTS OF LIFE (2000)
1) The Art Of Driving; 2)
Weekend; 3) The English Motorway System; 4) May Queen; 5) Sex Life; 6) French
Rock'n'Roll; 7) The Facts Of Life; 8) Straight Life; 9) Gift Horse; 10) The
Deverell Twins; 11) Goodnight Kiss.
This is like a carbon copy of England Made Me, except this time
everything is different. Well, musically
the only big difference is that the band relies more on electronics —
creatively programmed drums and digital keyboards threaten to push the guitar
sound out completely on the first few tracks, although acoustic and electric
guitars still find a way to creep in through the back door, eventually. But if
you thought this change in texture would make the band sound colder (as a transition to a more
electronic sound often does), you couldn't be more wrong.
In comparison with England Made Me, The Facts
Of Life is a downright optimistic, positively charged album. Not because England was such an epitome of
depression, and certainly not because the band now offers anything like a «happy»
view of the world — no, they still sound like the same bunch of resigned
shut-ins, with no intention whatsoever to come out into the sun and play the
usual game of life. The difference is that, faced with the choice of "kill
yourself or get over it", The Facts
Of Life makes a clear decision in the direction of "getting over
it" (I could not even exclude the possibility that the decision was
consciously chosen so as to avoid the tag of «suicide propagandists» that some
media sources were only too happy to attach to the band).
In a way, the differences are subtle — and how
could they not be, when this is, after all, the same band, with the same
distinctive, individualistic vocalist and the same idea that music should be an
honest reflection of life itself? But sometimes a spade is just a spade, and
when, on the tenebrous ballad ʽStraight Lifeʼ, Sarah coos "it's a
beautiful morning, it's a beautiful day", it is unreasonable to look for
any hidden irony. Instead, this is a quiet, self-contained celebration of the
«dream home» — separation from all the irritants ("away from alternative
culture, transient people coming in and out of our lives...") and chilling
out in the safeness and cuddliness of your densely woven cocoon. Irony? More
like utopian escapism, if you ask me. Some people actually like to "live in a tin on top of the wardrobe",
especially those that are convinced that living anywhere else exposes you to misery
and suffering.
If there is one song that I feel reminded of
while listening to this album, it is... Bob Dylan's ʽLay Lady Layʼ — the
synthesized strings that open ʽThe Art Of Drivingʼ kind of echo those Nashville
steel guitars that provide the soft, springy foundation for Dylan's love
ballad. I daresay it is just a coincidence, but in reality, the two songs share
more than just a couple of chords — both are soft, gallant pleas to the
imaginary listener, begging him/her to give in, seducing and becalming the
listener. From that point of view, a "stay lady stay, stay while the night
is still ahead" is not that different from a "you've been driving way
too fast, you've been taking things too far". The entire album is just
that — a big old "slow down" message. Slow down, drop out, tuck in,
get off, and stay under. There's actual beauty to be contemplated in all this.
To make things more convincing, Nixey shifts
her singing technique, melting a few blocks of ice and transforming them to
breathy steam — songs like ʽWeekendʼ are purringly sexy, even if the singer
immediately issues a warning ("careful not to touch, we've drunk
enough"), and few other people could make a repeated line like
"Friday night, Saturday morning" sound so mysterious — is it longing?
yearning? boredom? hypnotism? whatever it is, it's darkly enchanting, as is
ʽThe English Motorway Systemʼ, a Buddhist anthem to the art of existing and
surviving on the highway — especially efficient if you play it back to back
with Deep Purple's ʽHighway Starʼ, as an effective illustration of how the
exact same object can trigger such different visions. And even if "the
English motorway system is an accident waiting to happen", this is not a
horrific realisation, but rather just one more of those "facts of
life" that you learn in the course of "detached observing". It's
a highway anthem all right, yet at the same time it's a song that could have
just as well be done by any qualified master of «ambient pop», like Brian Eno.
So as not to fall completely into the trap of
discussing lyrics rather than music (and there is a lot to discuss here, believe me), I will just state what seems
obvious — the chief musical instrument here is Nixey's voice, through and
through; otherwise, ʽMay Queenʼ would be a mere rip-off of the Beatles' ʽDear
Prudenceʼ (whose guitar chords it is quite unashamed to pilfer), and ʽGift
Horseʼ would merely be a pretty instrumental, stuck somewhere in between New
Age, adult contemporary, and baroque pop — it is the singing that transforms
them into gorgeous fantasies of romantic escapism. Most beautiful of the lot,
though, is saved for last: for ʽGoodnight Kissʼ, Sarah packs so much tenderness
that by this time, I believe, every single listener should be subscribing to
the Church of Black Box Recorder, buying all their records, stocking up on
cereals, water, and toilet paper, and boarding up all doors and windows. "Use
your imagination, we can go anywhere" — it's all in the mind, you know.
Of course, if I were hard pressed to only
choose one, I'd still go with England
Made Me, for all the extra darkness and frost. But The Facts Of Life really dwells in the same darkness and frost: all
it does is shine a little light inside the darkness and get a bit of a fire
going in the midst of the frost, because, well, you know, otherwise it's
"kill yourself" and we don't wanna do that. So essentially they just
constitute a solid premise and a logical sequel, and the «choice» is a fickle
idea anyway — let us just simplify things and go with another thumbs up.
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