- Music
- 12 Apr 01
I'd like to introduce, in the newly spot-lit corner, Julian Cope, the man who opens his mouth on behalf of The Teardrop Explodes. Or more specifically, Julian would like to introduce himself as, perhaps the future of rock 'n' roll.
I'd like to introduce, in the newly spot-lit corner, Julian Cope, the man who opens his mouth on behalf of The Teardrop Explodes. Or more specifically, Julian would like to introduce himself as, perhaps the future of rock 'n' roll. But don't take him too seriously, he doesn't.
The Teardrop often occupy sentences with Echo and the Bunnymen and U2 (this is one) as the path we must read for tomorrow today. Three disparate young sounds who allow us to pin out hopes to them, and in exchange we pin their badges on our lapels and their pictures on our wall. The key words to the Teardrop sound are 'soul', 'funk' and 'pop', aimed with intelligence and empathy at the feet and the head, but somehow (like Echo unlike U2) missing the heart.
Their music has a hard-funk shoulder whose origins lie with Talking Heads rather than black musicians. The instruments create shifting, colourful patterns: delicate intensive and bright, they often dress up and hide a lack of melodic variety and depth that is one of the album's weaker points.
Julian Cope's vocals, however, betray a dry quality that stems from hanging round too many monotonous tunes. He occasionally demonstrates that a wide range is within his grasp, but the general lack of melodic contrast does not really allow him to test his strength. Interestingly, it's the more lyrically oblique songs that seem to suffer the most from the melodic monotony, such as 'Sleeping Gas', 'Second Head' and 'Poppies In the Field', all built around repeating and limiting bass lines.
Compare this to 'Treason', one of last year's best singles (and one of four singles included here), where a delicate balance is established between the melody and Cope's unusual lyrics. Here his casually haunting words echo with music that is uneasy but still bright, waving a spider's web of sound to entrap the listener in chiming chords and piano scales.
Lyrically, you'll find sharp insights, but Julian doesn't like to elucidate, he plays hide and seek games with words, and then doesn't bother to conceal that fact.
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"Poppies are in the fields/Don't ask me what that means."
Whether he is in love or pain: he is still dancing. "I'm drowning in your love", he complains, "Ha, ha, I'm drowning". You can tell Julian smiles a lot, in private places and to mirrors. The Teardrop Explodes reflects his smile, then wink at you. They are trying to make pop music that doesn't give a homage to Beatles chords of the ’60s, and are perhaps cutting themselves off too far from that tradition. Julian Cope is trying to be truthful without being too obvious, and perhaps is trying too hard. The Teardrop never quite explodes but it ticks loudly to itself, secure in the belief that it could harness the power to blow up the world at any moment.
And we won't go out with a bang but a PoP!
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