- Music
- 01 Apr 01
Oh to be a fly on the wall of the U2 office when somebody plays the opening of track 2 of the Lisahall album and thinks, "Oh, how nice, a cover version of 'Numb'," only to discover it's really called 'Connection 17'.
Oh to be a fly on the wall of the U2 office when somebody plays the opening of track 2 of the Lisahall album and thinks, "Oh, how nice, a cover version of 'Numb'," only to discover it's really called 'Connection 17'. That lapse of originality apart, this album by Lisahall (the band from Chesterfield) of songs written mainly by Lisa Hall (the vocalist) shows a welcome fondness for Björk-lite territory rather than the over-worn Alanis/Joni path.
If at times Hall's voice gets a little too cutsey-girly to be allowed stay up after the watershed, the band is uncompromising in its use of contemporary studio trickery to bolster its urgent noisy pop. This is best exemplified on songs like 'Comatose', the mesmeric title track, or the finger-clickin' good smoocher 'The Sign'. 'Don't Want To Talk About It' clanks along quite merrily too.
The lyrics throughout are delivered with an ear more for their aptness for fitting into the soundscape than for any wit or wisdom. When she does come over all meaningful on 'Chocolate' it's sombrely awful until the band piles in and turns it into an anthem of sorts.
You probably won't buy Isthisreal? for its profundity, but it's well-endowed with niggling pop hooks and is admirably heavy on percussive effects, lots of loops, splashes of white noise, some appealing backward tapes on 'It Takes A Little More', a 24-carat pop vocalist in Ms Hall herself and an overall sound that makes it a useful soundtrack for these times. But isthisreal? Notatall.
Meanwhile, the profundity lacking on the above can be found in abundance on Bruce Cockburn's latest and 25th opus. Two lines into the opening killer track 'When You Give It Away', there's a reference to wearing OJ's gloves. Yes, this is real alright.
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Cockburn's delivery is imbued with a devotional feel, rarely better than on 'Isn't That What Friends Are For?'. The sombre 'The Embers Of Eden' meanwhile boasts the line "the great and winding wall between us seems to copy the lines of your face".
Unlike many of his serious-songwriter compadres, Cockburn can add pace and speed to his work without losing subtlety, with the bustling latino-jazz inflected instrumental 'Down To The Delta' proving the point handsomely. 'Deep Lake' is a beguiling solo guitar workout and he turns in a stunning version of the old Fats Domino hit 'Blueberry Hill' with some blistering guitar.
There's some fine vocal contributions from Margo Timmins and Lucinda and tracks like 'Use Me While You Can' are blessed by the kora of Daniel Janke. A bit more melody and a little less half-talking would be appreciated. Nevertheless, this is a worthy addition to Cockburn's noble canon. Tony Blair described Cockburn as "one to watch". Try listening, Tony.