The King of biscuits? Surely a Bourbon Cream...or maybe a Jammie Dodger
Since the dissolution of the Beta Band in 2004, Steve Mason has kept a low profile. He moved to the Scottish village of Pittenweem to get his head together after the acrimonious split and is now re-entering the heady and cut-throat world of pop through the resurrection of his Beta Band side project King Biscuit Time.
After the release of EPs 'Sings Nelly Foggit's Blues in "Me and the Pharaohs"' and 'No Style' in 1999 and 2000 respectively, and at a time when the Beta Band garnered substantial critical acclaim, but were largely ignored by the populace, Mason shelved 'the Biscuit' and concentrated on his day job. Under the watchful gaze of Alan McGee, the album 'Heroes to Zeroes' was beginning to get them noticed Stateside but, in the end it was a case of too-little-too-late and the band members went their separate ways. And so 2006 finds Mason apparently returned to full Duracell strength and electing to release the first full-length King Biscuit Time album 'Black Gold'.
Combining the fundamental hallmarks of the Beta Band's sound (electro-reggae-folk-pop-psychedelia) with a stripped but lush production mix and a lyrical sensibility both political and personal is Mason's remit. The melodies are few and far between and instead Mason's voice hovers over the instrumentation like an ethereal entity. The clattering drums, electro squelches and accusatory lyrics of single release 'C I AM 15' set an overtly political tone right off the bat and is further punctuated by a rap denouncement of the war-mongering brothers-in-arms Bush & Blair - courtesy of Topcat. As ever, Mason's voice is delicately sweet which ultimately leads to an uncomfortable juxtaposition: no matter how passionate the lyrics are, it doesn't have the necessary bile and chutzpah to convince entirely. Imagine what 'Career Opportunities' by The Clash would sound if it were sung by Kylie Minogue and you might start to appreciate what I mean. However, with the gentle reggae-inflected 'Kwangchow' (a forthcoming single), his voice is perfectly suited to the exquisite insecurity of the words: "Me and my friends we can't help each other/'Cause all we really need is the lovin' of another".
The sonic wasteland of 'Lefteye' bequeaths the listener an ode to a painfully unrequited love, while 'All Over You' is a more contemplative and visceral piece - though it retains an erstwhile romanticism that is sure to strike even the coldest, blackest heart of any listener. Furthermore, the above is made all the more pertinent when married to the fact that Mason had endured the break-up of a personal relationship - as well as the fracturing of the Beta Band. 'Way You Walk' feels an even more personal inclusion and though it's an admittedly more sonically structured melange, it is one that soberly articulates the pain felt through the subjection to the reticent yet triumphant emotions of love. The closer 'Metalbiscuit' is pure Kraftwerk electronica and a dramatically short inclusion at that - lasting only eighty seconds, but it's a great melodic chillout to bring you back to reality - and a much needed one at that.
All in all, Steve Mason has fashioned a fusion album, one akin to Joe Strummer's work with the Mescaleros - Jamaican beats, folk-pop overtones and lyrical themes both political and personal - and at times it's a great combination. At other times though, it sounds repetitive and muddy ('Paperhead' for instance), as if Mason is still lost in a quagmire of personal fatality; he knows not where to go or how to get there and the record suffers as a consequence. That said, however, this disk is imbibed with more heart and raw emotion than anything I've heard so far this year. It might not take on first listen, but give it a couple of plays and its seductive, eloquent, defiant and melancholy charms will hit home. Die-hard fans of the Beta Band will be dunking this album straight into their sonic cuppa but I reckon it's prudent for the rest of you to nibble the edges and check the texture before slapping a chunk of 'Black Gold' into your mugs of PG Tips.
And as a postscript, here's a heart-warming thought for all the ecologically responsible consumers amongst you: the 'Black Gold' album case is 100% biodegradable - as it is manufactured from a recyclable carbon neutral material. I hope that eases your collective conscience guys. I'm off to bait some badgers, trawl some tuna and leave the bathroom tap running while I brush my teeth.