Ian Brown
Golden Greats
[Mercury/Polydor]
Rating: 7.3
Ian Brown is an ugly man. He's always been an ugly man. We were just more willing to tolerate
it when he fronted a band as ferociously talented as the Stone Roses. These days, as a "solo
act," the Monkey Man's total lack of presentability has never been more readily apparent and,
strangely enough, embraced by the man himself. His ugliness, in an abstract and simplified form,
is on full display on the cover of Golden Greats in an array of cheery pastels. His
mutt-fugly mug also adorns the inside cover in full photographic glory, in case you required
a more sobering confirmation of his hideousness. And if that isn't enough, the CD is
enhanced with a clip of the video for "Love like a Fountain" and a photo gallery for
your viewing pleasure. The video features a chess piece, a shoe, a pailful of painfully obvious
Christian imagery, and a treasure trove of homely.
After his incoherent February 1998 debut, Unfinished Monkey Business, Ian Brown became
renowned for alleged gay-bashing, slugging a flight attendant, and a subsequent two-month stint
in the slammer. His career adopted a slight, Weilandish hue. According to his biography, this
unfortunate string of events-- in addition to his complete lack of musical talent-- made him
consider becoming a landscape gardener. He didn't. (We suspect it might have had something to
do with an inability to hide a lack of talent as a landscape gardener by surrounding yourself
with other, more talented landscape gardeners.)
Of course, it only makes sense that this poor bastard would finally squeeze out a relatively
engaging album. After all, you can't be this dumb and ugly and have bad luck on top of it.
For the most part, Brown has left the instrumentation on Golden Greats to hired hands,
leaving behind the elementary school proficiency that marred his first solo effort. He's also
opted to mask his bong-cured vocals in an assload of distortion, which lends a pleasing
nondescript accent to most of the tracks, and helps wash down some of his unforgivably asinine
lyrics.
The album runs the gamut stylistically, from the Zeppelin-esque riffs of "Gettin' High"
to the laid-back bass line of "Neptune." But the music is by no means organic-- Brown melds
that reliable old genre, drum-n-bass, with his rock sensibility. "Free My Way" rides a
skittering beat, but somehow manages the rock with blazing guitarwork and bass-drenched
cello.
Of course, Golden Greats seems to owe its eclectic sound more to its host of capable
engineers and session musicians than to any talent or inventiveness on Ian Brown's part. But
that's beside the point. If nothing else, Brown at least lends some charisma and name
recognition to the album, which earmarks it for attention. If you can get past the misguided
cover art and multimedia, Golden Greats proves a worthy listen. But we in the States
might want to wait for its slated mid-April release before rushing out to purchase the $30
UK import. It's not that fucking good.
-Beatty & Garrett