Jarvis Cocker - Further Complications (Album)
» Jarvis Cocker change of venue - November 23, 2009
I hate Jarvis Cocker. There. I said it. And this is not an easy, simple hatred. Oh no. This hatred stems from the fact that he’s so damn smooth, so damn cool. Some might mistake it for smarminess, others for arrogance. But it’s neither of these things and both at the same time – all mixed in with the fact that he is just so very English. I hate him. But I do quite enjoy his music, and his new album Further Complications is no exception.
There is not much here that will deter a hardcore Cocker fan (and yes, I did just giggle because that sounds a little rude), but there is also little that will engender a new generation of Cocker fans. While this second solo attempt is proffered as a ‘rock’ album, there’s not much here that gets the heart racing, but that’s not to say there’s not a lot of guts. First single off the album, Angela, is a catchy, driving rock ditty, reminiscent of the Kinks or early Beatles and won’t disappoint. Homewrecker is ballsy, like the man himself, and it is here that the rock intentions really shine through.
I must admit that Leftovers scored a chuckle from me at the opening line (“I met her at the museum of palaeontology and I’ll make no bones about it") – it’s cheesy, but this is one of his evil, evil charms. Songs like Hold Still could have been ripped straight from an old Pulp album (Different Classes immediately springs to mind), while songs like title track are good, but certainly not challenging and don’t particularly offer anything new or, for that matter, very interesting.
If you come to this album expecting Pulp-esque meanderings, or the dulcet tones of Jarvis’ trademark spoken word pieces, you won’t be disappointed. But the key thing that struck me about this album is it’s similarity to a long drive along a road you’ve been on many times before – often you realise you’re at the end of the song and don’t quite remember how you got there. I don’t mean for that to sound nasty, but instead, just to highlight the real lacking of oomph here. There’s chutzpah, I’ll give it that, but even with producer Steve Albini (Nirvana, The Pixies, The Stooges) calling the shots, you will still probably walk away asking ‘Where’s the beef’? Perhaps the further complications that the title alludes to were directly related to the missing grunt. Harsh? Maybe. But I already put my cards on the table. I hate Jarvis Cocker*.
*and by hate, I mean love... perhaps THIS is the further complication.
