The 1990s are over, which means it’s now possible for something to
sound “so ’90s” (in which said appellation means dated, stale and
unappetizingly familiar). Since I was never excited by the mid-’90s
Britpop resurgence (spearheaded by bands like Oasis, Suede, Blur and,
of course, Pulp), I feel no guilt about calling Jarvis Cocker out on
his newest solo album, Further Complications, which is about as
fresh and exciting as video footage of Courtney Love drunk in
public.
The album’s first single, “Angela,” can serve as a case study for
its inherent unimpressiveness. We’ve got the over-reliance on the one
“zingy” guitar riff, the redundancy of the word “Angela” as lyrical
content (alternately chanted, sexy-whispered and catcalled), limp
backing vocals and some punctuating handclaps. It all sounds like a
forgettable Urge Overkill B-side.
In fact, FC‘s “eclecticism” comes off as a VH1 I Love the
’90s tour of the era’s musical fads. “Leftovers” references the
college-rock, Buffalo Tom thing. “I Never Said I Was Deep” wants to be
funny but fails; it yearns to be anthemic, but Cocker’s purposefully
off-key warble is just vexing. “Fuckingsong” finds Cocker channeling
Trent Reznor to a cheesy “metal” riff.
I’ve always been fond of Cocker’s Michael Jackson-dissing,
arts-programme-hosting offstage antics. He’s likable, even when he’s
being a smug prick, and I go for that in a guy. Though my feelings for
him are complicated by Further Complications, I’ll probably give
him another chance the next time around.
This article appears in May 21-27, 2009.
