POP EXPLORED – Pt eleven.
Younger daughter (Occasional Speeder) goes to Keane concerts with her daughter Ysabelle. This seems strange. Children should resist their parents’ musical tastes otherwise the dynasty withers. Then I recalled that Elder Daughter (Professional Bleeder), a fan of David Bowie inter alia, watched Benjamin Britten’s opera The Turn of The Screw on telly with us when she last stayed. Is the da Ponte strain incestuously blanding?
My earlier review of Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know wasn’t exactly kind. So I tried another track – Can’t Stop Now, recorded in Neanderthal times (2003 to be exact) on telly. Previously I thought Keane’s lead singer looked about fourteen. This time the lower half of his pixy-ish face hinted he was turning into a girl. With straggly unwashed hair and NHS dentures.
So I concentrated on the music. Forget the drummer, probably wearing Wigan clogs with which to belabour his tom-toms. But the pianist started with an almost Bach-like continuo and second time round I found myself enjoying his spare, displaced beat accompaniment. Really this was OK.
The singer’s voice hardly spans an octave and lacks identifiable character. But – again, second time around – I realised it was melodious, a singer’s voice in fact. Youthful, undeveloped but – hey – this is pop. The tune he sang could, with different backing, have made its way in the nineties if not the eighties. Not old-fashioned but lacking fashion. Passionately delivered from a familiar crouch.
The sentiments were personal, unexceptional and unafraid of bathos:
I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stood here, dithering around
A YouTube commenter said severely, “To all those complaining, this is a bad performance.” – no doubt dreaming of vast arenas. But the boutiquey environment suited the band’s unaggressive style. I may listen again.
Want to arrive at your judgement? own Click HERE
Younger daughter (Occasional Speeder) goes to Keane concerts with her daughter Ysabelle. This seems strange. Children should resist their parents’ musical tastes otherwise the dynasty withers. Then I recalled that Elder Daughter (Professional Bleeder), a fan of David Bowie inter alia, watched Benjamin Britten’s opera The Turn of The Screw on telly with us when she last stayed. Is the da Ponte strain incestuously blanding?
My earlier review of Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know wasn’t exactly kind. So I tried another track – Can’t Stop Now, recorded in Neanderthal times (2003 to be exact) on telly. Previously I thought Keane’s lead singer looked about fourteen. This time the lower half of his pixy-ish face hinted he was turning into a girl. With straggly unwashed hair and NHS dentures.
So I concentrated on the music. Forget the drummer, probably wearing Wigan clogs with which to belabour his tom-toms. But the pianist started with an almost Bach-like continuo and second time round I found myself enjoying his spare, displaced beat accompaniment. Really this was OK.
The singer’s voice hardly spans an octave and lacks identifiable character. But – again, second time around – I realised it was melodious, a singer’s voice in fact. Youthful, undeveloped but – hey – this is pop. The tune he sang could, with different backing, have made its way in the nineties if not the eighties. Not old-fashioned but lacking fashion. Passionately delivered from a familiar crouch.
The sentiments were personal, unexceptional and unafraid of bathos:
I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stood here, dithering around
A YouTube commenter said severely, “To all those complaining, this is a bad performance.” – no doubt dreaming of vast arenas. But the boutiquey environment suited the band’s unaggressive style. I may listen again.
Want to arrive at your judgement? own Click HERE