Goldfrapp
Felt Mountain
[Mute]
Rating: 8.0
If you'd told me a few weeks back that I'd be lusting after some chick
named Goldfrapp, I'd have told you to pack your bags for an
all-expenses-paid trip to my fist. But writing this review, all I can
think of is Goldfrapp. Sweet, sweet Goldfrapp. Mmm... Goldfrapp.
Before I get accused of any level of chauvinism here, I feel I should
defend myself. I am, after all, only a male variant of the human species.
And what sane, sexually functional guy could resist a woman who whispers
in a throaty voice, "No time to fuck/ But you like the rush?" Not me!
What's more, she's English! English from England! And she hangs out with
Orbital! C'mon, now!
Taking cues from apparent influences ranging from Marlena Dietrich to
Siouxsie Sioux to Björk, Alison Goldfrapp has constructed an album that's
simultaneously smarmy and seductive, yet elegant and graceful. Describing
the sound of Felt Mountain comes easy not because it's a simple
album, but because the devices used throughout are so ingrained in our
musical vernacular.
If Austin Powers had been a film noir flick, its soundtrack would
probably sound something like Felt Mountain. The hushed vocals, the
crying analog synthesizers, and the sustained seven chords all evoke
amazingly strong images of things past. Still, the album manages not to
sound dated, kept fresh by occasional journeys into more experimental
electronics and Goldfrapp's always-engaging vocals.
Felt Mountain opens with "Lovely Head," a track that juxtaposes a
shuffling drum beat and whistling that sounds like it could be 50 years
old with futuristic analog beeps. Goldfrapp's voice, with all its warmth
and expressiveness, sounds instantly familiar. And it retains this
familiarity over the course of the album, excepting a throaty,
Siouxsie-esque yelp or two in "Human," and a bizarre passage at the end
of "Deer Stop," in which her voice is made to sound eerily childlike.
Creepy, especially considering the sexual undertones present.
All this taken into account, Felt Mountain's greatest strength
lies in its overall elegance as a record. While certainly not "poppy,"
it never has a truly weak moment. And while the songs aren't all that
different from one another, the flow from track to track makes perfect
sense.
To summarize, Felt Mountain is a really swell record, and I am
madly in love with Alison Goldfrapp. I'd have her name tattooed on my
arm, but... you know. There just isn't room in this world for a man
with "Goldfrapp" inscribed in his flesh. Luckily, there's always room
in the world for a damned fine record.
-Matt LeMay