Ocean Colour Scene
Mechanical Wonder
[Ark 21]
Rating: 6.9
There are a lot of people who help you on your way through life that you
never get time to thank. I can think of hundreds of folks who never received
just compensation for giving me a helping hand. One of these people is
Cliff. You all know Cliff, whether you want to admit it or not. His notes
helped me through more than one Jane Austen novel in high school and are
largely responsible for some glowing test scores that by all rights should
have made horrible stains on my transcript. So, Cliff, in thanks, I offer
you this idea for expanding your empire of cultural aids: multimedia Cliff's
Notes.
You see, listening to the fifth Ocean Colour Scene record has me thinking.
We've got Cliff's Notes for books, but why stop there? If you didn't see
2001: A Space Odyssey, why should you be left in the cold when you're
talking film with your hipster friends? Just pick up the 20-minute, annotated
Cliff's Notes version and you can drop all the references you'll ever need.
And if you missed the late 1960s and early 1970s and you're too lazy or cash
strapped to go out and buy all of the Led Zeppelin and CCR albums, just pick
up Ocean Colour Scene's Mechanical Wonder, the Cliff's Notes of classic
rock.
The UK foursome kicks things off with "Up on the Downside," a tossed salad of
funky, wah-wah'd rhythm guitars, harmonized Tom Schulz leads, impassioned
vocals and fuzzed-out line clichés. The song is so 1976 it hurts, but it's
also undeniably well-done and catchy to boot. This is where Mechanical
Wonder's biggest paradox comes into play. The band unabashedly carry a
torch for the sounds of old, but they do it so well that it starts to sound
fresh. As far as contemporary British trad-rock is concerned, it simply
doesn't come much better than this. At the very least, it kicks the arse of
recent Oasis offerings.
The string of throwback sounds and inspired tributes continue unabated for
the entire length of the disc, with standouts like the rocking, Wings-ish
"Can't Get Back to the Baseline," making it clear why Noel Gallagher and Paul
Weller made Ocean Colour Scene their pet project in the early 90's. "Biggest
Thing" delivers on the promise of Bad Company's first album, while "Sail My
Boat" gracefully combines the lighter side of Grand Funk with Straight
Up-era Badfinger. The only thing that sounds remotely contemporary here
is Martyn Heyes' punchy production, which has a remarkable depth and clarity
rarely heard on 70's LPs.
As proven by their past releases, Ocean Colour Scene are best when they're
getting their freak on, and tend to falter on their ballads. The same
essentially holds true here, except for the fact that these ballads are
better than usual. "Biggest Thing" wallows in arena rock echo and tinkling
piano for a bit too long, but "We Made It More" manages to please with its
John Paul Jones bassline and "Rain Song" strings. Likewise, "If I Gave You
My Heart" has a dazzling string arrangement and a great acoustic guitar solo
(remember those?) from guitarist Steve Cradock. This song also lets vocalist
Simon Fowler stretch his soulful pipes out a bit, recalling the glory days of
UK blues rock.
It's a testament to the band's skill that I'm still not tired of the album
after several listens. A pile of clichés like this usually rubs me like
steel wool, but I'm starting to think I really wouldn't mind having this along
in the car. Sure, there are things that tend to irritate-- the Bill Withers
chord progression on "You Are Amazing," the dopey hippy technophobia of the
title track, the Leslie guitars on everything-- but the trip down Memory Lane
is overwhelmingly enjoyable in the end.
Ocean Colour Scene will probably never catch up with the times, or make an
album that critics will hail as anything but revivalism. But here, they've
at least managed to come up with an ace guilty pleasure for those days when
all you want is just a little pure rock and roll. Plus, if you missed the
70's, it's a great, inexpensive way to experience the era's FM radio sounds.
Without having to hear Andy Gibb's "Shadow Dancing" 8,000 times a day.
-Joe Tangari