BLOOD ORANGE: COASTAL GROOVES (2011)
1) Forget It; 2) Sutphin
Boulevard; 3) I'm Sorry We Lied; 4) Can We Go Inside Now?; 5) S'cooled; 6)
Complete Failure; 7) Instantly Blank (The Goodness); 8) The Complete Knock; 9)
Are You Sure You're Really Busy?; 10) Champagne Coast.
British whiz kid Devonté Hynes is a man of many
faces — well, two or three at least — but since he prefers to thoroughly
separate these faces into individual personae, we will respect his decision and
treat Coastal Grooves as the fresh
debut album by Blood Orange, an artistic entity whose unstated purpose is to
combine love for Eighties' pop with a passion for R&B and prove that the
results might be of interest to people in the 2010s. Well, actually, the second
part of the purpose is not that difficult, given how many people there are in
the 2010s and how just about anything
is of interest to at least some of them in the 2010s. The first part is where
it gets trickier.
Before he was Blood Orange, Dev Hynes was
Lightspeed Champion for a couple of years, during which he explored alt-folk,
alt-rock, and various other alt-alt directions — maybe not with the speed of
light, but with enough ambition to build up a bit of reputation. With this
rebirth, and an album whose title has the word ʽgrooveʼ in it, he is looking
for answers to a completely different type of question: namely, what would it
sound like if Prince and Ric Ocasek formed their own band and pooled their
talents fifty-fifty? Except, that is, that all their songs would be written and
recorded by a guy from Ilford, East London who had not even been born yet when Purple Rain and Heartbeat City were rockin' the suburbs.
This is precisely the catch: the idea itself
sounds intriguing on paper, but Dev Hynes, at least in the ever so humble
opinion of this particular reviewer, does not have the talent to convert that
theoretical bit of intrigue into awesome practical realization. He diligently
applies Prince's one-man band principle, playing most of the instruments
himself (although there are additional bass players and percussionists on some
of the tracks), and his technical mastery of funky grooves and scratchy New
Wave rhythms, as well as the ability to combine both within a single track, is
undeniable, but Coastal Grooves is
basically a one-trick exercise. Its entire point is being done on the very
first track, ʽForget Itʼ — fast, punchy rhythm track; melodic lead guitar;
repetitive and catchy chorus hook; half-carnal, half-spiritual atmosphere; and
a certain polite shyness, due to which the line "I am not your saviour,
baby girl" comes across not in a sneery "it ain't me babe" kind
of way, and definitely not in a cocky, Prince-like style, but rather well
adjusted for the age in which intelligent British kids do not want to alienate
their intelligent female fans with unnecessary crudeness. It is a nice, polite,
tastefully performed, and not tremendously exciting song that also showcases
his talents as a lead guitar player (there's a rather unexpected «harsh» break
midway through that is somewhat reminiscent of Adrian Belew's pop albums).
This in itself is not a problem; the problem is
that the same formula is applied for the other nine tracks — and regardless of
whether the tempo is a bit slower or faster, the melody a bit darker or a bit
lighter, the basic mood is always the same. Coastal Grooves is a record for nostalgically oriented romantics,
not deep enough to offer you a groundbreaking perspective on the issue of
one-night stands and/or long term relationships, and not shallow enough to be
ridiculously offensive or refreshingly humorous. Hynes delivers all the lyrics
in a slightly whiny, ever so vulnerable near-falsetto (allegedly this was a forced
change from his earlier style due to a throat operation he had) that fits this
neo-New Romantic vibe perfectly, but can get annoying fairly quickly, because
ultimately this is just a well-tuned mating call, and ten unsatisfied mating
calls in a row can give the impression of... well, let's call it an
«inefficiently functioning bit of genetic code». And even his guitar playing
often comes across as somewhat under-realized: many of the songs contain
snippets of potentially great riffs and embryonic ideas of perfectly
constructed guitar solos, but it is almost as if he is too afraid of being
accused of unsuccessfully ripping off Prince — in the end, he never really
gives us a chance to see if he truly is as good as Prince or not. (Probably
not, but I get so desperate by the time the record ends that I'd rather hear a
bad take on a Prince-style guitar solo than a good take on a
«Prince-in-the-womb» guitar solo).
I do not want to sound at all like an
insensitive dude from a distant age, mind you, but while the technical aspects
of the record are impressive, its vibe ultimately gets lost on me — like on
that last song, ʽChampagne Coastʼ, whose repetitive chorus of "come to my
bedroom, come to my bedroom" basically sounds like he is a reclusive kid inviting
a friend to show him a collection of Star Wars action figures, rather than, er,
uhm, you know. Perhaps it is simply
too much of a challenge these days to make songs that would be sexy and polite, rather than «sexist», at the
same time. Also, perhaps the presence of additional musicians would not have
hurt, either: I feel that there might be a terrific, tense, heart-tearing,
sweaty groove concealed in the core of ʽThe Complete Knockʼ, but all the song
does is loop the same potentially
cool call-and-answer guitar figure for five minutes, without properly resolving
it into anything cooler.
This is not to say I did not enjoy this, or,
for that matter, tip my hat to the decidedly anti-mainstream nature of the
record, which uses electronic instruments very sparingly and places primary
emphasis on Eighties-style guitar playing. On his subsequent albums, Hynes
would move far closer to that mainstream, which makes Coastal Grooves sort of outstanding at least within his own small
catalog — I could, in fact, easily see a certain category of fans abandoning
him after Cupid Deluxe while still
clinging to Grooves as a tighter, hotter,
and bolder artistic statement. Yet even such a verdict is not really saying all
that much.
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