With Mezzanine,
released over four years ago, Massive Attack took a
leap into murky territories as their blend of hip-hop,
soul and dub disintegrated. The Bristol trio, formed
of Del Naja, Mushroom and Daddy G, who shot to fame
seven years earlier with their seminal debut album,
Blue Lines,
were now incorporating elements of new wave and hi tech
electronica, pushing the boundaries of popular music
and producing in the process one of the most essential
records ever made.
Since then, things have changed in the Massive camp,
with the successive departures of Mushroom and Daddy
G, leaving Robert Del Naja sole in charge. With this
new album in mind, it becomes obvious that he was already
the driving force behind Mezzanine
as 100th Window bears more than a few similarities
with its predecessor. The mood is, as always, slow moving,
and if the soulful melodies that dressed Blue
Lines and Protection
are well and truly gone, Del Naja develops further the
atmospheric elements and intricate sonic constructions
heard on Mezzanine.
Dark layered soundscapes, ethereal vocals, luscious
arrangements and slick production all go towards making
this album a very aesthetic piece of work. This time
round though, there is very little of the inspired substance
of moments such as Rising Sun, Teardrop,
Inertia Creeps or Black Milk. Where
Mezzanine proved
to be intense, dense and imaginative, 100th Window
is in most parts dull, predictable and empty, as if
Del Naja had created a beautiful shell and forgot about
its content. Still relying on the vocal talent of reggae
legend Horace Andy, Del Naja has also brought on board
Sinead O’Connor to take over the role of lead
female vocalist from ex-Cocteau
Twins Liz Fraser. If O’Connor manages to pull
Special Cases, by far the highlight here, and
provides a heart-felt performance on What Your Soul
Sings, it all collapses with the bashing Prayer
For England, where Sinead O’Connor the singer
is eclipsed by Sinead O’Connor the preacher, ruining
in the process what could have saved this album from
doom and gloom. Remains the exquisite contributions
from Horace Andy. Close to the subdued performance he
gave on Angel, Everywhen and Name Taken
are as emotionally charged as any Massive Attack song
has ever been. Both Mushroom and Daddy G are sorely
missed here, and the nonchalant vocal inputs from Del
Naja, who leaves behind the sensuous and disturbing
rap of previous releases to venture into singing, can’t
make up for the loss.
The problem with this new Massive Attack record is its
lack of diversity, as Robert Del Naja concentrates on
the dark side of his musical persona to the detriment
of the passion that characterised the music of the band
up to now. 100th Window is cold and very often
soulless, with very little to lift up the sombre mood
lingering over it. A truly non-expected miss in an otherwise
splendid career.
2.4/5 |
