
While most of their peers—Depeche Mode, Madonna, New Order—have relied on periodic reinvention for their longevity, the Pet Shop Boys have always operated by other strategies, constant repositioning in a well-defined and carefully guarded terrain. The songs on all 10 of their official studio albums can be placed on a quadrant graph with "exuberant" at the top, "regal at the bottom," "melancholy" at the left and "wry" at the right. I've always liked them best when they've kept close to the melancholy/exuberant corner (The dance tracks of Behaviour, most of Very)and have had a growing impatience with wry/regal--most of the Fundamental album.
This precise emotional landscape is what makes the Pet Shop Boys sound distinctly like themselves (okay--occasionally like New Order) even while a new generation of electro-pop groups adopt their trademark disco-bass surge, tingly synths and laser-beam sound effects. The ironic persona transcends the quotation marks that make their 00s descendants, for all their homaging, sound very much 00s, not 80s. Neither a retro band nor of the electro-pop moment, PSB own their longevity to their creation of their own little world. That holds true even on their newest release, Yes, despite the participation of Xenomania as producer and co-writer on three tracks—if the collaboration has added something new to the formula, it's a sprinkle of cinnamon in a barrel of cookie dough.
Yes's core through-line follows the exuberance that made Very a best seller, a through-line that drives through the lyrics and even the packaging as well as the bounce of lead single "Love etc.,” Tchaikovsky-sampling "All Over the World," laser-beam bubbling "Did You See Me Coming?" and writhing “Pandemonium.”
The inevitable regal side turns up on tracks like “Vulnerable," "King of Rome" and “Legacy"--I accept them but don't love their theatricality. There are two experimental one-offs (yes, I’ve just added another dimension to the PSB quadrant graph): “Beautiful People” gets a hand from Final Fantasy’s Owen Pallett but it’s glaring Echo and the Bunnymen-ness that makes it jump out at you; and the album’s only car wreck, “Building A Wall,” another of their unsuccessful attempts at being overtly political.
For all the Very 2 ambitions built into its DNA, Yes’s melodies and themes come across as overly cautious and restrained—perhaps even rout—as if the meticulous programming necessary for the album’s shiny surfaces contaminated everything. The exuberant beats only periodically pry open the tunes. But when it happens—like the chorus of “All Over the World” where Neil Tennant plays a the role of Cher-like diva presiding over a dance floor with the line “This is a song for all the boys and girls/You hear it/Playing all over the world”—it’s beautiful release.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for the comment!