By 1985 Hucknall’s punk rock pretensions were nowhere to be heard, but few were predicting the gold-paved path he would soon take. Hucknall had paid his dues and his new band, Simply Red. In the spring of 1985, the band signed to Elektra, a newly formed UK outpost of the storied US imprint. By this time, the lineup had stabilised around the old rhythm section of jazz-infused Manchester post-punks Durutti Column – Tony Bowers (bass) and drummer Chris Joyce (drums) – alongside Durutti's erstwhile trumpet player Tim Kellett and keyboard player Fritz McIntyre. Classically trained, jazz-schooled guitarist Sylvan Richardson was the newest addition.
Weeks after signed to Elektra, Simply Red decamped to the unlikely location of Soundpush Studio in Blaricum, a small town in the Netherlands, to start work on Picture Book. It was hardly Las Vegas, but their Mancunian contemporaries still wondered why it was that they needed to go abroad to record. The reason lay in the fact that the group had enlisted the services of renowned American producer Stewart Levine to produce the album, and he couldn't get a permit to work in the UK.
The New Yorker had worked with the likes of The Crusaders, Womack and Womack, and Sly Stone, one of Hucknall's big heroes. He was persuaded to see Simply Red live, where Hucknall's performance convinced him; the music less so. 'The lead singer was magical', Levine later recalled, 'but the music sounded like a retro American soul revue. I wasn't interested in this kind of sound. I met with Mick Hucknall and told him we needed to come up with something fresh.'
Hucknall’s choice of debut single, was a slick cover of a 1982 disco tune, The Valentine Brothers’ "Money’s Too Tight To Mention". But despite this quite good song, not everyone embraced the band wholeheartedly. Some reviewed Picture Book cautiously, advising readers to "forget the soul stuff and you’ve got one of the better debuts of the year". Hucknall knew how to sing. He might have spent the next quarter of a century hammering that point home with all the subtlety of the insults that have since been thrown at him, but as he suggests Tom Jones told him, Hucknall has "the pipes". He’s simply done everything he can since to turn the concept of soul into a series of meaningless, too-many-notes mannerisms.
Picture Book‘s mainstream production might not endear it to those who prefer their diamonds in the rough: such techniques are about the only part of the era’s musical trappings that are yet to be revived, meaning that those who didn’t grow up with the record need to overcome a double fist of prejudices, personal and stylistic. But amidst the contemporary pristine synths and jazz club brass backing lies an authenticity that Hucknall was never able to replicate, his financially strapped roots soon to be smothered by unimaginable riches, his social conscience increasingly removed from the lifestyle his newfound wealth afforded him.
The album opener was "Come To My Aid", keyboards stabbed over a rolling bassline and tight guitar riffs before Hucknall comes in, his vocal discreetly low in the mix, its joyful tone masking lyrics that start out seemingly inclined towards the romantic. Money, interestingly, is a common theme through Hucknall’s work, something he shares with others who have risen from humble backgrounds to stardom, and his conclusion here. But it wasn’t all about politics and money. "Open Up The Red Box" may have hints that wealth for some may not bring happiness to all
On "Look At You Now", where he addresses a former lover – or, possibly, his mother. His sense of pride, yet to transform into arrogance, is palpable in the galloping pace of the track and Hucknall’s triumphant delivery, rather more vulnerable, however, is "Sad Old Red", in which he reveled, against a sublime nightclub jitter, in the self-pity of a man whose love has left. Tenderness is also on displayed on a magical interpretation of Talking Heads’ "Heaven", which sees Hucknall slow down the pace and transform the track into a slow-burning, yearning slice of sweet soul
And then there was "Holding Back The Years", that first-dance-at-a-wedding tune which, in actual fact, is a lament for his childhood. "Strangled by the wishes of pater," he sings, admittedly adopting a curious private school Latin for the sake of the rhyme, It was another perfectly poised piece of bitter-sweet soul, the strings restrained, the trumpet solo muted, Hucknall’s voice wavering with emotion, slowly building towards a pained, defiant announcement that "I’ll keep holding on, holding, holding, holding" before he crumples into an inarticulate heap and concludes "that’s all I have today / That’s all I have to say".
Along its forty minutes and thirty three seconds’ duration, Mick Hucknall was the real thing, hard though it might be now to believe. Cringe if you need at the glossy production, Hucknall and the band carry off the album "on mood and groove alone, it was the most accomplished debut of that year, especially for "Holding Back The Years" considered Hucknall's best vocal performance alongside its rock and jazz sounds that propelled success in both side USA and UK.
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario