Peter Gabriel has the distinction of being the only musician represented twice in my list of top 10 Desert Island Discs — Security and Passion — so yesterday was a big day for me. The last time I bought an album of new Peter Gabriel solo material I was living in Cawthon Hall at Florida State University, debating whether I should remain a music composition major. I had met my future wife then, but, as she frequently reminds me, I hadn’t yet made much of an impression. Letterman and Arsenio were making fun of the hillbilly governor from Arkansas who was making a run for President. Oh yeah, and I really liked The Spin Doctors. (Don’t laugh. I still kind of dig “Forty or Fifty” and “Refrigerator Car,” though not quite enough to plunk down 20 cents on a used copy.)
A lot has changed in ten years. Well, except for Peter Gabriel, who has apparently spent much of the decade holed up in Real World Studios, listening to his old albums, looping African percussion tracks, and twiddling with his Mac. With only three or four listens under my belt, I’m hesitant to label Up a major disappointment, but I am disappointed. I mean, ten years is a long time. Ten years. Some random thoughts:
Darkness — A strong opening track that, especially during its raucous verses, recaptures some of the noisy excitement of Gabriel’s Robert Fripp-produced second album (“Scratch”). In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that parts of “darkness” would work on those early Genesis albums.
Growing Up — If he can trim this 7:33 song down to 4 minutes, he might have an interesting single on his hands. I certainly prefer “Growing Up” to “The Barry Williams Show” and the songs he released from Us. I’m struggling to find Manu Katche buried under the otherwise bland rhythm tracks, but otherwise it’s pretty strong. (“Well, Dick, I’ll give it an eight. It’s easy to dance to.”) Lots of cool noodling from David Rhodes.
Sky Blue — My main beef with Gabriel’s recent soundtrack, Long Walk Home, is his obsession with a brief melody sung by the Blind Boys of Alabama that is quite beautiful the first four or five times we hear it. Hearing it repeated constantly for nearly five minutes, though, reminds me of the precision of the term, ad nauseam. Unfortunately, that same melody shows up again here, and once again Gabriel works it into the ground, ruining what might otherwise have been an interesting song. The last minute and a half of “Sky Blue” are just painful for me, I mean, like, early-90s techno painful.
No Way Out — This one might also have some chance as a single. All it needs is to show up in the last fifteen minutes of an intelligent romantic comedy, preferably one directed by Cameron Crowe. “No Way Out” has that “In Your Eyes” type of passionate chorus that will work perfectly during a slow motion shot of a reconciled couple kissing in the rain. I do look forward to hearing this one live, though. And, again, some very cool guitar work from David Rhodes. Interesting note: Mitchell Froome shows up here to play “backwards piano.”
I Grieve — Did I mention that Gabriel has been working on this album for ten years? “I Grieve” first showed up in 1998 on the City of Angels soundtrack (which probably sold enough copies to subsidize another five years of studio time at Real World). I’m pretty sure that “I Grieve” was also the first song I downloaded when I discovered Napster, so I’m pleased to finally have it on a full-bit CD, and in a nice new mix. Surprisingly, this is the only track on the album that features Shankar, who I hope will be joining Gabriel on tour. For those who will inevitably criticize Gabriel for overproducing Up (and with some justification) “I Grieve” will make a good test case. I wonder if such a beautifully simple lyric would have benefited from similarly simple instrumentation.
The Barry Williams Show — Did I mention that Gabriel has been working on this album for ten years? This satire of Jerry Springer-ish TV probably had more bite in ’98. Plus, I can’t hear the chorus without thinking of Greg Brady (the only Barry Williams as far as I’m concerned). Gabriel continues his trend of releasing the worst parts of each album to radio, and this one really is bad. “Kiss that Frog” has finally begun to grow on me…a little I doubt that this one will. The only high point: Tony Levin.
My Head Sounds Like That — This is the first new Gabriel song in years that would fit on his first and most eclectic album (“Car”). It reminds me most of “Humdrum,” which has always been a favorite of mine. A simple song built around a simple piano track and an interesting, occasionally dissonant orchestration, “My Head Sounds Like That” slips temporarily into a loud lament: “What’s left out and what’s left in?” I like it.
More Than This — Ever since “Biko” Gabriel has included one or two anthems on each album. Well, maybe “anthem” isn’t quite the right word. I’m thinking of those songs that would likely end a concert, giving the audience a chance to stand up and sing along with a simple, joyful chorus. I can already hear the crowds filing out of an arena, singing, “More than this. More than this. More than this. More than this. More than this. More than this.” You get the point. And did someone say “overproduced?” Not a favorite.
Signal to Noise — This one also first showed up in the late-90s, most publicly at an Amnesty International Concert in Paris. I just realized that I actually have no opinions about this track, which recycles a drum loop from Security and which builds to what should be an emotional crescendo. But, well, it doesn’t build much at all. It’s too easy, too obviously dramatic, and it doesn’t work for me at all. I was hoping that Gabriel’s last recording with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan would be more memorable.
The Drop — An album that took ten years to produce and it’s best track was probably recorded in one take — just Gabriel sitting at the piano. (Well, some completely unnecessary “programming” is added to the mix.) I wish ol’ Pete would knock out a full album like this, beginning with “Here Comes the Flood” and “Blood of Eden” and “San Jacinto” and “Humdrum” and . . .
I might comment later on the lyrics, but right now I’m too pissed at Gabriel for deciding to not print them in the liner notes. They’re included as an enhanced CD “bonus” and can’t be easily copied or printed. Am I the only person who still listens to CDs on a two-channel stereo?