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Mark Morriss - Memory Muscle

As lead vocalist of The Bluetones, Mark Morriss’ delicate tones imbued themselves onto some of the loveliest, well-crafted singles of the Britpop era. Although the band’s zenith has long since passed and the group seem destined never to trouble the upper reaches of the hit parade again (their last album barely scraped into the top 100), they continue to tour extensively, write and release new material (in marked contrast to their peers Shed Seven, who have reunited merely as a one-off exercise; presumably to placate the Inland Revenue). Indeed, in promoting the group’s most recent album, Morriss spoke confidently of a “new direction” for the group.

Interestingly, it is his debut solo record ‘Memory Muscle’, much more so than the recent Bluetones back catalogue, which heralds something of a departure from the sort of material which brought Morriss into the public consciousness many moons ago. Obviously, the sugar-sweet melodies and crystalline vocals remain present; but there is a maturity, worldliness and eclecticism present here which is worlds away from the jingle-jangle pop of ‘Slight Return’ or ‘Marblehead Johnson’. A particular highlight is the mariachi tinged rush of ‘I’m Sick’. An urgent, yet understated epic featuring lush strings, searing brass and an infectious chorus. It is a brilliantly constructed tune which evokes the spirit of Arthur Lee and Love’s classic album ‘Forever Changes’. It seems as though freed from the shackles of commercial considerations, Morriss has been able to produce a record bristling with charm and simplicity.

Opening track ‘How Maggie Got Her Bounce Back’ is a delightful, string drenched slow-burner with a vocal delivery which is strangely reminiscent of Ian Dury’s (except an octave or so higher and with a Home Counties accent replacing Dury’s distinctive Cockney brogue). However, those longing for the sort of jangle-pop which The Bluetones specialise in will not be wholly disappointed, the infectious ‘Lemon and Lime’ is a delight which proves that you can take the boy out of The Bluetones, but you cannot take The Bluetones out of the boy.

Although, the album does suffer from a number of duff tracks and some inevitable filler, there is unquestionably enough here to please those who are fans of Morriss. Whilst ‘Memory Muscle’ is unlikely to endear Morriss to any new fans, the high points here (and there are many) should be enough to remind those who had forgotten about The Bluetones long ago and quietly filed their original albums at the bottom of their CD pile, what it was about the band which attracted their attention in the first place. This is a simplistic, charming and thoughtfully constructed album from one of British music’s forgotten men. It isn’t destined to sell by the bucketload or end up on any of this year’s top 100 lists, but you get the feeling that Morriss isn’t looking for that anymore and ‘Memory Muscle’ is the work of a man completely at ease with himself and his craft.