The Bottletop Band - One in a Million [feat Eliza Doolittle]
The Bottletop Band's batch of diamante studded try-hards have stumped up a fresh and organic (quite literally) sound of jazz mimicry and sweaty exotic stickiness in their second single 'One in a Million'. Recorded between Rio De Janeiro, London and LA with a range of Brazilian musicians, this splodge of charitable goodness is here to raise awareness for younger generations and to support the Bottletop cause in raising awareness. The message simple and universal: 'take control of your lives'. This sentiment is quite fine by me; at least it isn't a coughed up phlegmy political purge akin to LIVE AID (even the name evokes rugby shirt-burning anger) or another reflection of organised greed & hypocrisy from the twattish sunglasses of Bono. This record isn't political but the infrastructure is, it's applicable to the poorest parts of Africa and the poorest parts of Tory Britain but more unusually, in the causality-ridden genre of limping "char-it-ee" singles, it's actually a real good'un.
A stretched out 'Lick My Decals Off, Baby' Beefheart riff slowly oozes and secretes a traditional jazzy template from the beginning of this 3 minute Brazilian inspired strip. For my mind, it's as if the song has been taught to the contributing 'international collective' on an off-chance as if their tour bus had stopped in Rio, next to the messy wake of an on-going street Mardi-Gras. A candid camera moment of improvisational aptitude with all contributing musicians unable to do anything but lend a tapping foot to this sexy, deeply rhythmic, bluesy soiree whilst, in admiration, they view members of the Buena Vista Social Club - yeah I know they're Cuban so what!?!? - grooving past on a rickety, tacky float and granting inspiration for their formation and musical output. This could be the true incentive or this could just be my imagination leaping to conclusive prose. In fact this single is far tighter than the aforementioned imagery. It's severe and practiced, regimented and anglicized. Eliza Doolittle's vocals seem too clean and overtly pop, yet the record still remains unusual in its composed and restrained nature. The bass is continuous, dark, brooding and sly whilst The Agile Beast binds the components of this charity-effort with his welded, cast-iron, quick-stick-shattering snares and a diet of bloated cymbals. Such tightened beats as these add to the resume of Mr. Matthew Helders and show just how big his fangs are, again proving himself to be THE DRUMMER of this generation! My generation!
The Bottletop shebang is a very middleclass outing: a laid out gingham feast, hummus and salad included. To word it even more proverbially and to elongate this review a bit more - as a song it COULD be likened to those presents you get at Christmas, usually from the biggest Guardian reader in your family. Y'know? A picture of a desk that's been donated to a needy African family on your behalf, with the sentiment far outweighing the laminated photocopy you've been given? – well, in this instance I say 'COULD' because I for one, upon buying their 'Dream Service' LP in August shall not be doing it for the good of charity, but for the good of my music collection and that's me being truthful.
Now supposed "Supergroups" aren't super. It's never the coming-together of Batman & Robin, Masters & Johnson or even Del & Rodney. This isn't a Supergroup and shouldn't be belittled with such a dirty smudge, the term itself a rosette reserved for the concussed and novel, content to cover singles they cannot even remember making whilst cantering a final lap before being sold to the glue factory. The Bottletop Band, although no knicker-wetting wonder, can at least be content in the fact that they're a competent bunch of musicians making great, delightful pop songs. Altruistic venture or not, you should definitely buy this single.