Those who heard Paolo Nutini’s 2006 debut breakthrough These Streets heard a 19 year old with a big future. Acoustic-based singer-songwriters aren’t hard to come by, but Paolo’s accent, rock band set-up, and good looks set him apart and gained him media coverage and plenty of adoring fans.
But its 2009, and he’s on the difficult second album. Still only 22, after success with singles such as Last Request and Jenny Don’t Be Hasty, the record company would certainly have been hungry for a good follow-up.
Sunny Side Up was released at the end of May just in time to be the soundtrack for the English summertime. And when the first single was released, listeners could have been excused for thinking it was going to be a familiar second album, despite Candy being a good track. Paolo singing to his lover over a delicate, acoustic 4-chord set-up seemed pretty in keeping with the majority of These Streets.
However, come the album’s release, you hit the play button and the first thing you hear is a brass section with some free playing organ in the background. With a ‘Hey!’ from Paolo, we’re suddenly in reggae mode and it is unbelievable. I found myself picking up the CD inner expecting to see the words ‘Producer: Mark Ronson’ but I was glad to see the name Ethan Johns instead.
This first track, 10/10 clocks in at under 3 minutes and is a perfectly fun, catchy song, but needless to say it’s a massive shock. Paolo’s band are barely audible for trumpet and keyboard.
But as we get past those 3 minutes, it seems he has struck a much nicer balance. Coming Up Easy, released as the album’s 2nd single, charted at only number 62 in the UK charts, his lowest charting single to date. However, for me, it is clearly the best song on the album. There is an almost motown-esque vibe to the song, but importantly the band is back in full glory. Brilliant Hammond organ riffs compliment, and with very small motifs the brass is completely welcome come the second chorus.
However, the golden moment of the song, in fact, the golden moment of the album comes in the final section of Coming Up Easy. The band drop down to just a simple snare-rim beat and the bass moving between two notes, echoed by the organ. The stage is set, and in a low swooning voice Paolo declares, “It was in love I was created, and in love is how I hope I die”. The drums signal for the band to rise back up together, and with Paolo singing higher the tension rises.
As Paolo lets out his rockier side, he hits his peak and it sounds simply brilliant. The band continues to jam for another minute, and it’s worth it. Each repeat sees the band playing harder and harder, and with Paolo improvising and wailing more on each line it’s a minute of magic which, despite there being 10 tracks left, is never quite matched on the album again.
The third single from the album was Pencil Full Of Lead and was undoubtedly the most popular. Banjo strums in the background along with playful drums, but oh my, the trumpets are most definitely back, along with everybody’s favourite – the harmonica solo. By the time Paolo is amongst it shouting incomprehensible words (and at the end murmuring), it just sounds like the equivalent of a 12-bar jam that 14-year-olds would consider blues. On the plus side, its only 2 minutes and 27 seconds long, and its meant in a much more fun manner than a bitter old man like me is willing to accept. But the brass intro really should make you cringe as well…
Growing Up Beside You, like Candy, sees the brass ditched, and more of a country influence comes in. Like he did so often in These Streets, Paolo is singing about his youth, and although the layered vocals grow tiresome quite quickly, the songs do work well and deserve their place on the album.
The second half of the album opens with another motown influenced number – No Other Way has more than a little in common with Coming Up Easy. A little more laid back, but still - the structure and the ideas are essentially the same, with another big note hitting ending from Paolo. It serves best as a reminder of Coming Up Easy and is in no way of the same quality.
Tricks Of The Trade is another high moment on the album. It’s just a man and his guitar, and it’s a welcome break. In the chorus Paolo sings ‘Lord, how our glory may fade, well at least we learned some tricks of the trade’, over effectively cheap sounding acoustics. It’s what was good about These Streets and it is definitely still worth hearing.
However, Chamber Music is an incomparably bad version in the same style. And when you’re hearing the harmonica blaring out of the speakers in what could conceivably be interpretations of Johnny Cash off-cuts such as Simple Things and High Hopes, it seems worth just pressing stop and starting the album again for a few tracks.
The thing is, Sunny Side Up sounds like two albums in one. One is a motown or soul album with reggae-esque beat influences, and the other is These Streets gone country. Or, These Fields.
For a second album, keeping the old fans happy whilst offering something to potential new fans seems a good way to go. And maybe making such a big change wasn’t such a strange move after all when we look at it like this. After all, there is no point in making the same album twice, as has been the downfall of many one hit wonders over the years.
However, the album still doesn’t quite feel right jumping from one to the other, and although Paolo still has a tremendous and unique voice, his broadened sound is one that is still developing. I’m looking forward to the next one.
Tom Stephens,
Visit Tom at http://youtune.tumblr.com
Buy Sunny Side Up on iTunes or Visit Paolo Nutini
Showing posts with label Youtune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Youtune. Show all posts
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
'Idiot Writes About Popular High-Street Clothes Shop' (Originally posted on Youtune)
The tagline sums it up nicely: "These are your tunes, and your meanings". Told you.
It's slightly departed from my usual avenue of writing but I enjoyed it as much as any other review and you can read the entry in it's entirety below or, better still, you can visit Youtune itself where you can peruse my entry and many others like it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Originally posted on http://youtune.tumblr.com on Dec 7th 2009
A short while ago, the editor was asked me to write an entry for this blog, concerning what a specific song means to me, and what memories it holds.
Taken at face value, this doesn’t seem like an especially taxing task. Everyone has songs they love, and everyone has reasons why they love those songs, right? Well yes they do, but as I found out, there’s a difference between songs you like and songs that you form a palpable, emotional attachment with. There’s no doubt that Rocket Man is one of Elton John’s finest moments, but do I feel genuine despair for the departing astronaut? No, not really. And as uplifting and enjoyable as it is, I’ve yet to rejoice in a loving celebration of life after listening to U2’s Beautiful Day.
As it turned out, it took good deal of thought to arrive at my chosen song and even now I’m not sure how it makes me feel. But I do know it forms the perfect soundtrack to the memories I’ve attached to it and that every time I hear it, something inside of me stirs and I can’t help but form a tiny smile. And I guess that’s what makes it great.
Champagne Supernova is not the most complex song you’ll ever hear (the majority is just 4 chords), but that’s not why I love it.
It’s lyrics are not the most inspirational or quick-witted and sometimes don’t even make sense, but that’s not why I love it.
And it’s not even very well arranged, clocking in at well over seven minutes. But that’s not why I love it.
What I love about it is all of those things.
Before I go on, a short disclaimer. Say ‘Oasis’ to someone and they’ll either begin to discuss a popular high street clothes shop or dismiss the band as arrogant has-beens as seems to be the trend now. Well I’d like to buck that trend and I’d even go as far to say that Oasis were the most important band of the 1990s, and that (What’s the Story) Morning Glory was the most important album.
I’m not embarrassed to say that and I’m not embarrassed to say that I think Oasis are dismissed too easily these days.
First of all, a bit of background. In 2003, I was budding ‘metalhead’ and listened to bands such as Metallica and System of a Down, and even played guitar in a metal band in my spare time. It was also about this juncture that, courtesy of my Dad’s record collection, I first heard Oasis’ second album (What’s the Story) Morning Glory, and Champagne Supernova. From the moment I’d started, I couldn’t stop. Every song seemed to grab me with its simplicity and no-nonsense attitude.
Fast-forward a year and the heavy rock had all but gone. Bands such as Manic Street Preachers, Coldplay and Oasis had replaced it. They all typified the straightforward and catchy rock that I had grown to love as I advanced through my early teenage years.
It just so happens that those few years were some of the best of my life and I have memories of hot summer days spent doing nothing, but doing nothing with friends. And memories of grand plans and ambitions made with no care in the world.
The first is it’s simplicity. Using just a handful of chords it manages build into a stadium-sized epic that never once becomes dull during it’s seven minute length, and it is this attitude that gives the song some of it’s emotional weight.
It’s clear that Noel Gallagher and Oasis are from the 60s school of songwriting that requires no musical knowledge, and by simply getting up there, having fun and playing what ‘sounds good’, they’ve created a feeling of being able to do anything.
And they don’t give a fuck.
Secondly, however you look at them, the lyrics make no sense together. Aside from being totally contradictory, the line “Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball” suggests walking at a speed faster than gunpowder, down an imaginary hall that bears no relevance to any line before or after. And yet it’s brilliant, because nobody understands it. Nobody is meant to understand it and most importantly, nobody wants to understand it because they don’t care.
The line, “Where were you while we were getting high?” backs this up. It defines the song as something that isn’t political or philosophical but is about having fun and as before, not giving a fuck.
Even the title suggests celebration and excitement, and I can take a good guess that Noel Gallagher had no idea what a ‘Supernova’ was.
Maybe it’s the attitude and the enjoyment I like the most but this is all made easier by the fact that Champagne Supernova is a great song. A stadium-sized epic that has both heartfelt and soaring melodies, and is backed by huge guitars that weave between the vocals, and explode into the chorus.
I read somewhere once, an excellent description of (What’s the Story)… that works just as well to describe Champagne Supernova:
“It should be enjoyed at full volume, lager in hand, and in your mate’s back garden. All on the greatest English summer day imaginable.”
It sums up just what the song is about, how the song should be perceived, and most importantly, that you don’t really need to think about it at all. And that’s why I love it.
If you enjoyed this then please visit http://youtune.tumblr.com for more great entries.
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