Do you think they go up to 11?
Concept albums have always tickled the pixie nose of the music charts. The most recent that I recall, 'A Grand Don't Come For Free', (the second album by urban spitter Mike Skinner a.k.a The Streets), is an album written about...well, a grand. Not a piano of course. It's not a record about taking a mosey on down to the Steinway showroom, playing a couple of bars of Chopsticks and then realising that you're gonna have to pay thousands of quid for an over-sized slab of MDF (I know that's libellous, so don't worry, I'm not really suggesting that Steinway indulge in such craziness). Nope, it's an album about £1000. Or fifty bottles of whisky in my brain. Skinner's is not a bad record either, (actually it's pretty damn fine) but it's too down to earth, too pithy, too contemporary to make the premier league. Truly great concept albums require a reckless denunciation of the more traditional values of taste, decency and rational thought. You never hear them now, unless you sit alone in your darkened bedroom with a battered record player for company (the analogue spirit will never die after all), smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking cheap French booze...or maybe that's just me. Back in the 80s though - yowzer! - you couldn't escape the pesky miscreants. In an age before obdurate playlists and unremitting pop-chart quotas were the norm, you could tune into Radio 1 safe in the knowledge that DLT was gonna play Kylie & Jason, host a quick round of Double Top and then throw 'Close to The Edge' by Yes onto the turntable. At least, that's how I remember it anyway. It was either some kind of crass AOR or Chas & Dave anyhow. Hey, that's an interesting thought: Has anyone ever seen DLT and Chas in the same room AND at the same time? I reckon it's the same bloke - and since Chas & Dave are playing the pub round the corner next week, maybe I'll stick my head round the door just to check out this doppelganger theory for myself. I might call on Gary Davies for a second opinion. I'm sure it's him I've seen pushing trolleys around the local Sainsbury's...
Anyway, back to the plot. 'Dark Side Of The Moon', 'Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band', the aforementioned 'Close To The Edge' (or any Emerson, Lake & Palmer record) prove that concept albums are never going to be consigned to the overfilled refuse bag of tat that permanently resides inside Simon Cowell's kennel. For a start, artists see them as an ethereal rite of passage that must be attempted after the respect of the record buying public has been earned. Of course, this 'respect' is obtained by knocking out some meaningless pap in an attempt to build kudos with the record company. That's why the concept album is never the debut - better to build up a fan base with some dance floor filling ferret spice and then get the head honchos to throw a wedge of notes at some gloriously ostentatious and intellectually deficient dirge that you proclaim is the reason you wanted to penetrate the dazzling sphere of the music industry in the first place. It's as big a con as Jesus feeding the five thousand with five loaves and two fishes - who the hell did he think he was - Captain Birdseye?
I'm not completely sure whether 'The Astronaut Dismantles HAL' is a concept album or not (if it ain't, it sure makes all of the above pretty irrelevant) but I'll tell you what; it bloody well sounds like one... and to name check a cerebral sci-fi movie in the title gives it away somewhat to.
'Continuum' opens with a deluge of distorted guitar and multi-layered noise before proceeding into a delicate but emphatically meandering beast, punctuated with rock riffage. The lyrics are understandably dystopian - "Eventually time corrodes the brain to rust/And all those dreams into diamond dust" and the production is as tight as Rod Stewart's purse strings. The track transmogrifies into more formulaic rock during the closing couple of minutes but it's a welcome break and sets up 'Into The Space' rather eloquently too.
Featuring a riff that sounds like the bastard son of AC/DC and Pearl Jam (once you get through the Babylon Zoo intro - don't worry, it's mercifully short), it's a foot stomping rollick from start to finish. The vocoded vocal grates a little as does the lukewarm philosophy of the lyrics but it remains enjoyable enough.
You'll understand why I thought this might be a concept album if you ever get your plugs round 'For Marcia'. It conjures eerie recollections of Wishbone Ash's 'Argus' (for some of you, this will be good thing, for others repugnant) - though the double-axe attack is obviously absent. However, the sharp guitar of Balamir is luxuriously lubricated by an undulating bassline and smooth drumming. Musically it is hypnotic enough to satisfy. The vocoded vocal works well too, evoking Floyd's 'Dark Side Of The Moon'.
Introduced by way of 'The Brain Room' (that's just blatant noise), 'Everyday Combat' sounds like it should be an Iron Maiden epic - something like 'Rime Of The Ancient Mariner' or 'Alexander The Great' but it isn't. Not enough rhythm changes for a start. Sure, the militaristic drums are present and correct as is the melody driven guitar but it's swiftly ruined by one fact and one alone...the vocal. This is most distressing, indeed I am racked with penetrating guilt for merely bringing it to your attention but on this track vocalist Sel Balamir sounds remarkably like David Essex on the dire Jeff Wayne's War Of The Worlds album. It's partly the fault of the lyrics. The impassioned 'Fighting the man' reminds a little too much of 'Brave New World' from the aforementioned nuisance album (ULLA! indeed) and additionally, they appear to have been written from the point of view of HAL himself (that may just be me of course), which is one step beyond.
To close, Amplifier (it's a pretty good name actually - maybe the genre smashing Scart Lead are just around the corner) serve up 'Live Human', a slow burning effects-filled romp and meditation on the nature of human existence. Dramatically more cynical than the previous tracks, it's got a couple of great guitar licks and rock-out moments, and the juxtaposition of the gnashing chorus and silky verses is great too.
So overall, what is the album about? Well, I'll stick my neck out and venture space, emotion and the philosophy of human existence...but I may be wrong. Amplifier are a slick and professional bunch and this album is not bad at all. But there remains a bitter taste in the mouth - it's hard to care, hard to focus your attention, hard to understand why they have created this beast and what it represents. There doesn't appear to be any scope for rational thought - it's not an album that is designed to provoke deep-thinking or critical appraisal. Sure, the sonic landscape they have fashioned is a rich and fascinatingly dense neighbourhood but it's hard to fathom what is behind it all, what the foundations are made of.
But maybe I'll be proved emphatically wrong - maybe all of the above are the very reasons that Amplifier created it. And surely not knowing what the hell is going on is the mark of a great concept album after all?