Brace yourselves lads and lasses, Jarv's spanking new platter is even more of a corker (and more in need of a spanking!) than his previous disc. And that's saying something. In fact, I'll come right out and put into words what it's saying: "Men, Women and Infants recoil in awe at the all-conquering, transcendently abominable spectacle that this man's shadow throws across the cosmos. Jarvis Cocker, you are some kind of unspeakable rock star."
That's what it's saying verbatim.
With his brand-new beard and a more sedate blazer this time out of the box, this emaciated twerp comes across like some weedy pimp of academia - the tenured professor of ROCKING YOUR UNDERGRATUATE FACE OFF. Tenured professor? Hell, he's the department chair. And he kicks himself right out from under you at unpredictably opportune moments - just when you think you might be getting to know him. He comes whispering loud and lovingly in your ear, wielding his soft and insinuating yet burly baritone, splitting hearts like logs as he stocks up against the coming winter's chill. This guy's not safe for any of us.
You know, I don't think there is a worse album review on the planet than what I've got working so far right now. And I'm not even a Pulp fan! I think I'll come back and try again later when I'm feeling less diametrically biased.
Ah, but what am I going to say? This album is top notch. I've heard it a good ten times through already, but the overkill wasn't necessary*. It grabbed me from the first. It's interesting because I'm not sure Further Complications has the emotional sweep and peak of the one or two best numbers from Jarvis - but I'm not even sure I can say that. It may just be a different palette of emotions going on. Some emotionally bleaker tones overall, perhaps - but also piquant and dripping with unexpected juices!
"Further Complications" kicks the album off right with a thumping, choogling snarl. It impressed me as setting a great tone right off, but as I grooved my way giddily into it, the back of my mind assumed that it would be followed by a stately parade of downtempo numbers (such as characterized the previous album). Far from it. In fact, by the end of the album the title track felt like maybe the least impressive song on there. And I reiterate: it was impressive. A "thumping, choogling snarl"! But instead of the expected fluke, it proved a true tone-setter; this album had some serious rocks to get off. "Angela" is a smutty little number - or is it some kind of rude lament? Comes on like a sassy classic rock n' roll ode to carnality whose time had come and gone, and is now telling its tale with a tragic hint and a leering lilt of innocence. How good is Jarvis at exactly this?
I am so glad this album rocks. There are some strong ballad-type numbers - songs like "Leftovers" and "Hold Still" hold down Ft. Gorgeous in proud, sad, conflictedly-uplifting fashion. "Leftovers" is a slinky and heartbreaking delight, a seduction predicated on accentuating the negative ("I Never Said I Was Deep" takes a similar tack a bit too far, but by then it's too late to mind). But a handful of standout ballads aside, the large majority of the numbers stomp and romp like an R&B army on the march. I laughed all the way through "Homewrecker!" - not because it is bad, but because it is just so "BAAAAAD" - bad bad Leroy Brown bad, so bad it's SUPABAD bad. It's those horns. "Fuckingsong" is potentially the ultimate paean to romantic disconnect - to how much you want to give the person you'll never get - but with the hilarious touch of acknowledging that well, you sort of both know you're really better off! A knowing serenade, that knows consummation is devoutly NOT to be wished. Funny and crazy-seeming (because who ever acknowledges such a thing?), but ultimately far saner than the million and one run of the mill worlds-apart, overcome-everything, "you and me against all odds will unite and wage great love" songs. Jarvis puts all his all into his swing to sell this one, saying essentially: take me as a song (I'm better that way).
I don't know any songwriter like this guy. His humor is always there, scathing himself not least of all (Jarvis is never more vicious than when he's kidding himself), but not even the most ridiculous premise or aside can undermine the song's success (witness "Caucasian Blues"). It's never a joke - even if it's a wonderful joke. On some level, the song remains somehow - often, desperately - serious. He (I mean in his capacity as "the guy in the song") is extremely funny, but also often sad, wrenchingly pathetic, and the songs can't come across as "funny songs." What they are is wonderful. He is a great songwriter.
As I've observed before, I'm not always sure what he means, but he means it so hard that it hardly matters.
Is the Queen reading? Knight this guy already.
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