Musicianship has always been at the forefront of albums by
The Fall, and on the last four with the current line-up there has been a real
push towards a heavier-sound, with dynamic hard-hitting drums and punchy
bass-lines at the forefront. The drumming
remains hard, but gymnastic guitar work from Pete Greenway predominates. Smith has always been a tough taskmaster and
doesn’t seem to have mellowed with time, the uncompromising idiosyncrasies on Re-mit
signal his intent once again. He may be
getting on in years but youthful vigour and vision remains intact.
A characteristic that sets Smith apart from other post-punk
musicians or even contemporary bands with abstract lyrics and arty
sentiments is that he has always been in touch with popular culture, and isn’t afraid
to dabble in derision of musicians or television personalities. Snow Patrol and Lauren Lavern deemed legitimate
targets in recent years; Gossip Girl was even referenced on Nate will Not Return. And upon seeing the band at Electric Picnic
he started off by proclaiming: “I am Ryan, from The OC-UH!” (which I enjoyed anyway). Those who brand him a miserable old git, fail
to recognise his acerbic wit. James
Murphy gets a mention this time round on Irish, I’m unsure if it’s
complimentary or not; “James Murphy is their chief, they show their bollocks
when they eat.”
There is a short energetic intro at the start of Re-Mit before Record Store Day
release William Wray kicks off proceedings
properly. Musically the song has real
purpose and sees Smith rambling about William Wray, seemingly attempting to
pronounce the name in as many different ways before the song ends, good start. Kinder
of Spine, adopts a simple garage rhythm, it has the off-kilter feel of
1960’s garage rockers The Monks (a band The Fall have covered in the past),
only Smith’s demented patter replaces that of Gary Burger, and organ absconds in
favour of keyboard. MES inhabits a
distressed damsel, as he shouts “oh captain, oh captain, help me-uh!” and
growls incoherently about “spiders!”
Spritely guitars greet No
Respects Rev, making it similar to a song like Pacifying joint from 2005’s
Fall Heads Roll. Victrola Time, makes use of overlapping vocals, a heavily-used feature
of this album, and also used to good effect on Jetplane with keyboardist and wife Eleni Poulou interjecting, sounding like tape-recorded interpreter. As the title suggests Jam Song, is a builder, starting out with 1980’s keyboard sounds
and MES trying his best to sing before guitars and drums join the party, drowning
them out. Album closer, Loadstones, all twisting guitars and
snarling vocal is a single in the waiting and wouldn’t have been out of place
on Your Future, Our Clutter, their impressive 2010 album.
The Fall are at times unfairly criticised, due to the fact
they are a band steeped in great and good albums, and why this may not be the
best Fall album ever made, it certainly passes the acid test. It's dishevelled nature is appealing. When
MES says defiantly on Hitite Man
that, “Death does not exist,” it makes you question whether it does for him,
he ploughs on and continues to churn out albums and tour with the resilience of
a man granted eternal life.
Admittedly, there are tenuous signs of aging...but his rampant musical
output and unflinching self-belief continue to breathe life into his music, and
that is why after 30 albums his visionary attitude endures, whilst so many of
his contemporaries pale in comparison.
DISCLAIMER: If you’re
a Mumford and Sons fan you will not enjoy this album.
By Garrett Hargan
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