the band Portishead not too long ago completed a long awaited third album. I just got it, along with their second album and their live album from NYC. This is beautiful and very dark music. Beth Gibbons’ voice in particular is so seductive and the lyrics so brutally honest that it is the kind of music that will always stay with you. i would say this music is not for happy times. Maybe some folks hear it purely as chilled-out trip hop. To me though it is much much more bringing back memories too of the early noughties which for me were a mixed bag of emotions. There was certainly room for sad and even desperate rumination.
Right now I am listening to Dummy, the highlights being Roads, Sour Times and Glory Box. Having said that, there is not one weak or ill-conceived song on the album. The bass line ’solo’ two-thirds of the way through Roads is something everyone ought to hear once before they die.

Portishead – Roads

The follow-up to Dummy, they continue the trademark sound and yet somehow it sounds fresh and amazing. Often overlooked because it may not have had the historical impact of Dummy but it’s still an essential album.

Part1//Part2

Info

Trip hop? This album. The Bristol sound? This album. It at once defined the trip hop genre and signified it’s peak.

There is before this album and after.

Vinyl rip but you really can’t tell because vinyl plays a pivotal role in the album; the scratching techniques are impeccable.

Essential.

Try

Info

Portishead

PopMatters, June 2008

By culture and temperature alone, L.A. is a different world to the weaving urban sprawl of Bristol, the city in the West of England that pokes through Portishead’s sullen sound as much as the stark beats and introspective voice of singer Beth Gibbons. If L.A. is palm trees, Harleys and silicone, then Bristol is closer to the kind of unsettled dimly-lit streets and dark alleys that the Specials drive down in their video for “Ghost Town”.

Geoff Barrow clearly notices the difference. Named after the Bristol satellite town he grew up in, Portishead emerged in the mid-nineties with Dummy, a startling debut that bucked the prevailing trend of outward-looking Britpop with an inward-looking melancholy of scorched-Earth pop. Blending slow-motion hip-hop grooves, old-school scratches, mournful soundtrack samples and Beth Gibbon’s tormented lyrics, Dummy went on to sell four million records worldwide, inadvertently creating the trip-hop sub-genre and providing the soundtrack for countless dinner parties along the way. Their self-titled follow-up went further against the grain, upping the mournful overtones as well as the underlying sense of paranoia, but it still sold healthily.

The subsequent ten years then have been for Portishead their own kind of wilderness, the kind their music often evokes. Burn-out, divorce, and dismay at how their music had been received at times, all played a part, while Barrow even speaks of turning his back on creating music at one point. And then midway through 2007, while many were still doubting another Portishead record, All Tomorrows Parties – the innovative UK festival promoter – announced that Portishead would curate their A Nightmare Before Christmas event. One look at the line-up, a bill that included drone metal, experimental electronica and Balkan folk, suggested that once they did return, maybe it would be worth the wait after all. We could all relax.

Now that Third is released, Geoff Barrow can finally relax himself. He clearly knows the difference between ten years staring at a stubborn tape machine and the glimmer of the Californian sun. “I’m sat by the pool,” he laughs, still coming to terms with his surroundings. “I really don’t know how I got to this point. I’m sat next to some terrible speaker playing trip-hop music in this hotel!”

The relief is evident in his voice. And while Geoff may have vented his frustrations on the Portishead blog in October (“this album has been like watching Lost, a never ending journey with very few answers”) the relief seems to have smoothed away at least some of that hardship. “It wasn’t too traumatic really,” he clarifies now. “It was traumatic at the start of it because we just had enough of the business really and I’d had enough of music generally. It was traumatic at times trying to write some decent music, do you know what I mean. But now it feels absolutely spectacularly good that we’ve finished it.”

“Spectacularly good” could be seen as an understatement. Portishead (the band is completed by guitarist Adrian Utley) have essentially reinvented themselves. Saturated in analogue, classic old-school cut-and-paste production and the varied influences they shared via ATP, Third echoes the wilderness of those lost years while retaining the group’s absolute love for building intriguing soundscapes. You can hear the passion and the frustration battling it out with each other. Drums, loosened from their electronic shackles, chug along with doom-laden chord progressions and eerie olde-tyme folk, while the stirring vocals of Beth Gibbons remains the only true constant, tying the whole thing together (drifting in during the album’s first song, “Silence”, her first words are “Tempted in our minds / Tormented inside mine / Wounded and afraid inside my head / Falling through changes”).

Third sounds like Portishead’s previous two albums suffered a head-on collision and were slowly pieced back together in an old BBC studio, with nothing but analogue wiring and a Doctor Who sound effect kit at hand. It’s beautiful record—possibly their finest—but even die-hards will need a few listens.

Thankfully, Portishead still sound like Portishead, if not a little more bruised and nasty this time out. Throughout Third you can hear the stubborn deconstruction that the band evidently spent aeons tinkering with. It’s a process that Geoff sums up when just talking about battling with one track, “Nylon Smile”, with its tantalising Tom Waits beats. “It was really weird because ‘Nylon Smile’ was an acoustic guitar track that had been around for almost ten years,” he recalls. “It was a demo that Adrian wrote that was just a real simple guitar change for Beth, a major to minor chord thing. And when we first looked at the songs, we looked at doing it and we must have spent at least six months trying to make it work. And it always sounded too … well it didn’t sound like us.

“The song sounded like Beth and the riff was cool, but every time we tried to do something it just sounded not right. It was a gut feeling really. And then me and Beth sat down and we chopped out some parts, we did like a bit of a hatchet job on the song. There was another two parts to it and we just simplified it. And then I got into the studio once and I kind of thought I can’t do this.

“It was this thing about beats. Through the last ten years I’ve not been very interested in beats at all. I actually tried to find another side of my creativity rather than just programming because everything I touched I was not into at all. It just sounded shit. So to kind of get out of that I started fucking around with keyboards and music and a lot more playing drums really, but in a non-traditional kind of way, and still trying to maintain some points of hip-hop and interesting music. So I ended up playing it on the back of an acoustic guitar. I just turned the guitar around, stuck a mike on it and just played that groove. So it’s a live groove from start to finish.”

For the modern day artist, raised on Torrent files and shareware, a click away is all manner of digital trickery designed specifically to avoid those “wasteful” months of toil. In a design studio somewhere a programmer may even be adding a “Portishead” option – “Right-click on your soundtrack sample; then select ‘Geoff Barrow’”. To the real-life Geoff, any thought of this is an abomination. “Everybody’s got a ProTools set up or whatever now, and they’ve got all these drop-down folders on it that have got all these pre-made hip-hop drumbeats and shit and I just think, ‘why the fuck would you want to do that?’”

Click “Geoff Barrow Scratches”, select “Adrian Utley Alien Guitar”, add “Beth Gibbons Deathly-Harrow Vox”. Press “Yes’“to download Dummy II. Frightening.

Yet, while countless Portishead fans, clearly balding after all the hair they’ve pulled out waiting for Third (just imagine all the Guns ‘n’ Roses followers, are they wearing wigs?), will surely thank the band for avoiding the easier option, we must pay a thought to all the dinner parties across the land, still waiting for the next Portishead album to soundtrack their delicious soirée. As Geoff so deliciously put it in his blog last year, “It sounds pretty different from what we have done before. I don’t think the fondue society will be happy.”

That they became so successful from the mainstream buying into their symphony of paranoia is the big Portishead paradox. And it’s not just about the music being so obviously littered with sadness and loneliness. It’s the absurdity of giant advertising companies and dinner parties warming to Beth’s curdling cries of despair, depression and fragility. Geoff agrees. “I’ve just been in this hotel now and they played a track from Dummy, along with a load of other shit, just around the pool. And I’m just thinking, ‘God, if they actually knew what Beth was singing about!’”

Geoff explains that Portishead turned down what would have been some healthy paydays from the advertising industry, even stopping one of the few requests they agreed to after researching the company involved. But the misinterpretation of his music, like any artist, still troubles him. “It’s a massive question that whole thing really,” he says. “That’s all we’ve been singing about, the ridiculousness of human behaviour, and human conditioning and basically pressure of trying to live a life. Just all these things that kind of trouble you, that when you get old you realise they’re so full of shit. It depends what your goal is in life, but working towards just spending money on stuff you can’t real afford, you don’t really need, you know what I mean? And then it’s so ironic that our music was picked up by those exact people, if not an even worse lot. I suppose if we were just making digital noise and [Beth] was singing on it then I can understand, or if she was singing with her acoustic guitar. It was just badly interpreted our music, it was so terribly interpreted.

“But,” and he emphasizes the but, “this wrong interpretation has allowed us to carry on for ten years and have a bit of cash. So I can’t complain, but it was never supposed to be like this.”

Geoff, Adrian, and Beth’s deconstruction of Portishead should do enough to keep the advertisers and the fondue set at arm’s length. But just to make sure they opted for “Machine Gun” as their first single in ten years. An uncompromising, drifting apocalypse of a tune, the desolate, factory churn of dislocated drums is a pretty decent alarm system to deter any trespassers. For anyone else, as soon as you get inside Third there are some wonderfully sublime songs. I keep returning to “The Rip”, a beautiful evocative track that slowly builds from a whisper into a compelling, soaring melody with Beth cooing “Wild Horses / They will take me away / And my tenderness I feel”.

Forever a music fan, Geoff talks passionately about the debt Portishead owe to the artists that Portishead chose to accompany them at last year’s All Tomorrow’s Party event. “We have said that everyone we got to play, everybody, with no exception, has played a part on this record.” Set in a holiday camp idyll in Minehead, England, ATP favours the uncommercial and challenging over the safe and mainstream. For even committed Portishead fans the line-up must have been a shock, taking in drone metal like Sunn 0))), Balkan folk troupe Hawk and a Hacksaw and psychedelic electronic from Silver Apples.

“It was one of the best things I’ve ever done, by miles,” Geoff enthuses. “ATP, as an actual event, suits us down to the ground. It’s the most uncommercial festival you can get in the world, other than if you were to play an acoustic guitar in the middle of your mum’s field. There’s no sponsorship, other than things which are in the right way, and that’s not trying to be super-cool. I don’t think it’s trying to do anything other than appeal to a group who like music, that are really fairly uncatered for on national radio and so on.

“It is so deeply uncommercial and uncorporate, but it’s actually in one of the most corporate places I’ve ever been to in my life. I think it’s just brilliant. And choosing the bands, me and Ade had a dream ticket, just to get all those bands. Everyone was fairly shocked when they saw the line-up but for me it was everyone we listened to.”

For Portishead A Nightmare Before Christmas proved a welcome distraction from the end of a difficult process. If, as Geoff has said, making Third was like watching Lost, than the outcome has been far more satisfactory. To return at all would have been impressive, but to return with arguably their finest record is as satisfying as Hurley whispering in your ear what those damn numbers mean.

As for the future, Geoff insists that their current tour ends at the Primavera Festival in Spain at the end of May, ruling out any other festivals. “Hopefully [we’ll be] back in the studio then,” he assures, a slight element of self-doubt slipping through.

“We seem to do everything in a way to make life difficult for ourselves. We could play the festivals this summer and not have to worry about the mortgage for a while. But we’re not! It’s always the reverse of what we should be doing really. I’m sure our agent is going nuts, and the record company’s going, ‘but how are you going to sell the record through the summer?’ I don’t know, we’ll do what we always do really: take the difficult route.”

Angie Taylor in 1975 - a couple of years before she discovered punk

Growing up in Scotland in 1975, I had no idea what was going on the other side of the Atlantic. Little did I know that American women there were in the process of breaking ground so that people like me could find a voice and be accepted despite our inherent weirdness!

The first woman who I remember having the ideals and attitude that define the category of “punk” was the wonderful and truly original, Patti Smith. I’m sure Patti hates labels as much as I do. In fact the majority of folks labeled “punk” would kick and scream against having it safety-pinned to them. Sadly it’s human nature to feel the need to classify so, Patti, sorry for calling you a punk but please see it as the badge of honor it’s intended to be!

Patti was 29 in 1975, a veteran in punk terms, when she released Horses, her debut ground-breaking mix of rock and poetry. Lenny Kaye, the bands guitarist was also a writer. Lenny has been accused of instigating the use of “Punk Rock” to describe the raw, basic, gut-formed music that was desperately in need of a genre-defining moniker.

Horses is one of my top albums of all time. It fits into my elite category of “albums I never get tired of hearing” (of which there are only about 20). She continues to record and perform today and her recent albums are just as compelling as they ever were. She’s one of those rare individuals who, as well as writing her own fabulous originals (like title-track Horses) can take other artists songs and make them completely her own, take for example her cover of Them’s Gloria or, more recently, Nirvana’s, Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Patti also had a big influence on the “Punk look”, and on design. She was the first woman I remember seeing wearing a biker jacket, jeans and cowboy boots, just like the guys, and she looked great with her straggly hair and gaunt beauty. She lived with photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe who produced countless iconic images of Patti, including the album covers.

Patti was part of the legendary CBGBs and Max’s Kansas City scene in New York in the the early seventies. The scene was frequented by other great luminaries of the punk scene like Iggy Pop, Velvet Underground, Andy Warhol, The Ramones, Wayne (Jayne) County and of course Debbie Harry who started out as a waitress at the clubs and went on to form 80’s supergroup, Blondie. Debbie Harry brought sex to the Punk Rock movement, most female punks were considered unattractive by regular guys but Debbie Harry toyed with their affections by pouting at the camera, then following this with mocking, teasing gestures. Sadly, partly due to her cuteness, I think she never got the recognition she deserved as a top song-writer and performer. She and Blondie wrote some of the greatest punk love songs of all time including “Picture This“, “Denis“, “Hangin on the Telephone” and “In the Flesh“. After all, punks fall in love too y’know!

Nico became noticed as part of the Velvet Underground/ Andy Warhol scene at the Chelsea Hotel in New York. Her gorgeously, deep, flat vocals can be heard on Femme Fatale, I’ll be Your Mirror and All tomorrow’s Parties as well as others considered to be some of the best Velvet Underground tracks. Although the Velvets can’t really be considered punks their influence on the punk movement can’t be underestimated. People like Siouxsie Sioux had ground broken for them by the likes of Nico with her fusing of 60’s Berlin beatnik, Marlene Deitrich style deep vocals and a passion for the art of singing that can also be seen in the likes of Beth Gibbons from Portishead.

There were countless other acts that influenced me and others, and still continue to do so. Joan Jett was a rock chic of the highest order, as was the Pretenders, Chrissie Hynde. You just have to look at the amazing Alison Mossheart of The Kills, Discount, and more recently, Dead Weather to see their influence carried down the generations.

Without these ground-breaking women we wouldn’t have had PJ Harvey, Kate Bush, Annie Lennox, Madonna, Bjork who are mainstream pop icons of today. And we definitely wouldn’t have any of the women that formed the UK punk scene who we’re going to take a look at in the next installment. I hope you enjoy my little nostalgic trip down memory lane. Please listen to the music and please feel free to chime in if you think I’ve missed anyone!

É sempre bom quando os amigos nos mandam mimos com o objectivo de tornar os dias menos penosos!

Obrigada Maria José pelo carinho!

Ana Coelho

Beth Gibbons – Mysteries

God knows how I adore life
When the wind turns on the shores lies another day
I cannot ask for more

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and mystery
I’ll be there anytime

Oh mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I’ll be there anytime

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and God knows how I adore life
When the wind turns on the shores lies another day
I cannot ask for more

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and mystery
I’ll be there anytime

Oh mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I’ll be there anytime

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and mystery
I’ll be there anytime

Mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I’ll be there anytimeI’ll be there anytime

Mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I’ll be there anytime

Prenez un morceau plutôt acoustique et apaisé, d’un disque encore récent ; mettons “Faust arp” sur le In Rainbows de Radiohead. Puis enchaînez-le avec un album noisy-rock du début des 90’s _disons Nervermind par exemple, mais sans toucher au volume… Au lieu d’une déflagration sonique attendue, vous devrez presque tendre l’oreille pour reconnaître l’intro guitare de Smells like teen spirit, avant l’explosion rythmique. Ou comment faire passer le mur du son Nirvanesque (période Butch Vig) pour une gentille production sous-vitaminée…

C’est un des aspects du travail de mastering en musique, qui détermine le niveau sonore final (autrement baptisé “puissance moyenne RMS“) d’un enregistrement, avant pressage ou gravure. Et il a augmenté de manière spectaculaire depuis les 80’s jusqu’à aujourd’hui, des premiers CD’s  mis sur le marché jusqu’aux productions présentes. Le phénomène est déjà bien connu, ainsi beaucoup de techniciens audio s’alarment des dérives de ce crédo “toujours plus fort” qui prédomine dans l’industrie musicale, la sphère audiovisuelle. Ils pointent la dénaturation excessive engendrée par une trop grande compression du son, et l’usure auditive occasionnée par celle-ci. En effet, à mesure que la dynamique _écart entre les passages les plus faibles et les plus forts d’un morceau_ se réduit dans les musiques actuelles, elle engendre également une fatigue accrue de l’oreille humaine, souvent imperceptible aux premiers abords, mais bien réelle à terme.

Je n’écris pas ce post avec une quelconque démarche de “prévention auditive” à l’esprit : si les gens veulent flinguer leur tympans à coups de iPods réglés au maximum, ou en se délectant du concert de groupes tels que Mogwaï / My bloody Valentine sans bouchons, ça reste leur problème, leur liberté individuelle. Ce qui m’interpelle surtout, c’est plutôt dans quel contexte socio-technologique cette élévation progressive du niveau sonore musical s’inscrit, ce qu’elle révèle sur l’inconscient de nos sociétés développées, et les enjeux stratégiques masqués derrière cette bataille de décibels.

En pleine période de guerre froide, c’était alors la course à qui produirait le maximum de têtes nucléaires, déjà une métaphore assez puérile du jeu de “celui qui pisse le plus loin“. Aujourd’hui on fabrique toujours des missiles, mais on “pisse” également des décibels à tout berzingue : guerre froide entre stations radio FM, entre chaines de télévisions, entre publicitaires (la joie de baisser le son à chaque coupure de pub pour éviter l’infarctus…). Entretemps, l’équipement électro-ménager aura aussi mis à mal nos fragiles esgourdes, à coups de lave-vaiselle, micro-ondes, de bourdonnements d’appareils seulement mis en veille, ou de PC aussi bruyants qu’un aspirateur, allumés toute la journée.

Dehors, ce n’est guère mieux. Il serait d’ailleurs intéressant de pouvoir comparer des mesures de pollution sonore en milieu urbain, du début du 20ème siècle à celles d’aujourd’hui. Disons à Paris, au hasard… Le meilleur moyen de réaliser comme on dresse nos oreilles à un bruit de fond permanent, reste évidemment une bonne immersion à la campagne, la nuit de préférence.  Dans la réalité du silence naturel, on s’entend même respirer ; on discerne le froissement des vêtements à chaque geste, on écouterait presque un coeur battre…

Sauf qu’un sifflement étrange émerge soudainement, et ne passe plus : celui que subissent presque tous les habitants en zone urbaine, à un degré différent : l’acouphène du monde moderne “civilisé”, une note continue dont la perception trop accrue peut rendre littéralement fou. Elle est probablement la cause de plusieurs troubles nerveux, de diverses formes angoisses et autres tendances dépressives. Mais ça n’empêchera ni NRJ, ni TF1, de “booster” régulièrement la pause publicitaire ou le jingle de reconnaissance.

Ca n’empêche pas davantage une majorité des acteurs du milieu musical de vouloir encore produire plus de décibels qu’avant, comme s’il était impossible de monter simplement d’un cran le volume sur son appareil CD. Au contraire, nombre des exemples pré-cités justifie hélas en partie cette tendance à masteriser plus fort. Car désormais, on écoute rarement ses disques sur une bonne vieille chaine de salon ; mais par-dessus le ronron incessant d’un ordinateur, sur des enceintes souvent médiocres, en format mp3’s à la qualité aléatoire.

C’est aussi une bataille entre pages Myspace, comme pour le zapping d’une station FM à une autre : envoyer plus de son que le voisin. Il y a des formats, des impératifs, pour espérer accrocher l’oreille d’un programmateur, d’un directeur artistique. Alors on sacrifie encore davantage la dynamique des morceaux ; tant pis pour le passage calme après le 2ème refrain, ou l’intro crescendo des violons : “il faut que ça crache, coco !“

Et il n’y a pas seulement les musiciens qui veulent se faire entendre. Au fond, ce n’est qu’un reflet patent de notre état d’esprit de grands anxieux post-modernes. 6 milliards d’habitants, ça en fait un sacré boucan : qui m’écoutera chuchoter, quand tous les autres se parent d’un mégaphone ? Hausser le ton afin de se donner du courage, de la prestance, ou juste par un vieux réflexe de survie : 6 milliards de nourrissons qui braillent, de peur que maman oublie l’heure de la tétée… Bienvenu dans un futur monde de sourds et d’hystériques, où il restera seulement les films pour y voir 2 personnes parler à voix basse dans un café, un cinéma… En vrai, il faut hurler à l’oreille du voisin. Et c’est nettement moins romantique.

Voilà un peu comment je me sentais il y a quelques temps, dans mon home-studio de fortune, à finir le mastering de mon prochain album  _plus enclin aux ballades guitare-voix qu’à des titres dance-floor. La rue grouille de sons divers : du marteau-piqueur avoisinant, aux hurlements des enfants dans le square d’à côté ; quand un démarrage en trombe de moto ne vient pas recouvrir le tout… Mais finalement c’était peut-être le bon environnement sonore, en vue de confronter une oeuvre intimiste et nuancée à la réalité de ce qui l’attendra, une fois délivrée à son auditoire, souvent citadin, pressé, distrait.

J’ai mis d’autant plus la voix en avant, afin de m’épancher directement à l’oreille du mélomane, sans distance excessive. Les arrangements ne sont désormais qu’un luxe pour écoutes multiples. La nature m’ayant doté d’une tessiture assez grave, je dois d’abord compter sur le timbre si je veux attirer l’attention, et non sur la puissance vocale ou cette prédominance de l’aigu sur la mêlée des autres fréquences. Peut-être que dans 2 ou 3 siècles, ce type de voix ne sera même plus vraiment audible, à cause d’une mutation accélérée de l’ouïe humaine, en réponse à son propre environnement “naturel”… Il me reste encore quelques années devant moi, à défaut de postérité acoustique.

Tout en finalisant cet album, j’ai redécouvert à bon escient le très précieux disque de Beth Gibbons & Rustin man (la chanteuse de Portishead), Out of season, admirable de résistance au formatage de l’époque. Ici, le mastering rend honneur à la dynamique de chaque morceau, ne gomme aucune aspérités. La voix ressort de manière si évidente, si proche… Un contre-exemple sonore parfait, sans passéisme exagéré, visant seulement la justesse des intentions, pour une beauté… fidèle. Merci Beth.

PORTISHEAD
Glory Box (Live Session Version)

It seems like a million years ago that Portishead released ‘Dummy’…an album that combined tape loops with orchestral flourishes, creepily Gothic synthesizers, electronic beeps & blips and a pure Angel singing the storyline of a tormented, melodramatic nightmare…that quite literally invented ‘Trip-Hop’ and to this day remains an alarming…if intensely paranoid…listening experience. I can still remember shortly after it was released, in the studio on a wintery day in 1995 during a blinding blizzard, I was hitting the ‘repeat’ button all day long listening to Beth Gibbons’ mournfully gloomy vocals again and again and again…my assistants were ready to kill me…..but everybody else in the studio that cold, grey day loved it. The people in front of my camera included (Mrs. Trump of the moment) Marla Maples, fashion designer Cynthia Rowley, personal trainer Harry Hanson, Ad-Man Jerry Della Femina and actor, author, dramatist and camp legend Charles Busch…and all of them were diggin’ the dark & murky vibe the intimate collection of songs gave off…..after the shoot I actually sent copies of the album to Marla, Cynthia and Jerry…..

Anyway, this morning, as I was jumping around the music blogs, I stumbled across this unreleased, raw & stripped-down, live session cut of one of the stand-out tracks, Glory Box…and maybe it’s ‘cuz I haven’t cranked up the original in a long time, but the new version brought all those intense feelings back again. Gibbon’s slow bump and grind style…the reedy organ trilling in the background…the haunting wah-wah guitar riffs…..it’s got me floating away in a heroin haze…..

Visit Portishead on their website

I Portishead sono già al lavoro sul quarto album. Secondo la BBC, infatti, la band di Beth Gibbons dovrebbe cominciare a scrivere nuovo materiale nei prossimi giorni. Strano, se si pensa che Third è uscito soltanto un anno fa, a distanza di ben 11 anni dal secondo disco omonimo.

“Se tutto va bene potrebbe vedere la luce nel giro di un anno”, ha dichiarato Geoff Barrow, mente del gruppo di Bristol, alla BBC. Alla rivista NME lo stesso Barrow ha poi spiegato che i Portishead, attualmente senza etichetta, hanno “grandi piani” per questa release: “Porteremo avanti la cosa da una diversa prospettiva”. Non vediamo l’ora di sapere cos’hanno in mente ma nel frattempo vi proponiamo il video di All Mine, una canzone troppo bella per essere vera.

Beth Gibbons is known mostly for her work with Portishead and rightfully so. Without her voice their sound would not be the same. This was a side project from the band while they were in some form of hiatus. Don’t expect Portishead though. It’s a lot more subdued and allows her voice to shine in a different light.

Try

Info

Quer um excelente motivo para começar bem a terça-feira?

Beth Gibbons te dá vários:

Im so tired, of playing
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other girls to play
For Ive been a temptress too long

canzone per la domenica (e da femminucce)

Beth Gibbons & Rustin’ Man -Mysteries

30. J W Anderson for ASOS toothbrush

Actually amazing, because most toothbrushes aren’t very cool, and actually makes sense; J W’s A/W 09 collection includes all kinds of gentlemanly ephemera from compasses to cuffs and rings.

31.The return of photorealism, part deux

I’ve got a very unhealthy obssession with Sixpack, especially since they get some of the best designers, artists and so forth to collaborate with them, and aren’t shy about letting the work speak for itself.

Expect to see Sixpack a few times on this list but for now, it’s these awesome marbled pieces I’m hand-wrangling over.

32. Gordon Richardson and Topman’s new floor

This is the average contents of Gordon Richardson’s manbag, courtesy of the Guardian:

Perhaps he forgot to mention the large side order of GENIUS he must carry around everywhere. I recently was asked to come up with a list of people I celebrities or men in the public eye who I thought were well dressed and couldn’t think of anyone apart from Topman’s Design Director.

Next week, a project he must have been working on for some time comes to fruition; Topman’s Oxford Circus opens an extra floor, a doubling of the space and a stepping up of the game that should renew it for guys who have maybe moved on and grown up. It also intriguingly highlights what other highstreet stores must do to draw our attention rightly back to the physical after the lure of internet shopping. Rumours are there will be a Rough Trade store, a long-deserved Ksubi concession, some kind of bar, a permanent Lens section plus the collections from James Long and Christopher Shannon.

33. LD Tuttle men’s boots

Well, unisex, not strictly men’s; but as Rachel Zoe might write, ‘AMAHZING’ and destined to end up on Jak & Jil blog in some form. Clear-cut, military flecked but so well made as to invoke classicism at the same time.

34. Jim Stoten for Habitat

Jim’s an excellent, amazing illustrator and he’s made some lovely textiles for Habitat, including this street scene. Never a massive one for cushions before, but to be honest Jim could illustrate a slice of bread and I’d want to buy it.

35. Carolyn Massey at Daniel Jenkins

Carolyn Massey, now ready to buy at Daniel Jenkins! What more could you want?

36. Lou Dalton and Full Circle

Truth be told, I heard a rumour about this a few months back; and yes, it’s true. London Fashion Week star and creator of “rebellious English sportswear” Lou Dalton is also the new accessories designer for Full Circle.

If you’ve noticed a shift in the brand, then it’s no surprise as it aims to become sharper, cleaner, neater and seems to be headed into the right territory. But it’s Lou’s accessories that really shine; panelled satchels that turn into backpacks, sturdy leather holdalls, jelly belts, gloves and squashable totes. Full Circle will be sponsoring Lou’s LFW show in return; and following last season’s fantastic cake and catwalk affair at Kettner’s in Soho, it looks to be another definite highlight.

37. PRESENT

New, beautifully-formed men’s store just opened in Shoreditch- selling not only the obvious brands like Raf by Raf and Nigel Cabourn, but some beautiful Trickers colourways, vintage spectacles and coffee which is meant to be very nice. Beautiful old signage too.

PRESENT, 140 Shoreditch High Street, London E1 6JE

38. No more NUMBER (N)INE!

Another excellent show, another Beth Gibbons soundtrack (this time her brilliant solo record, Out of Season). Japanese brands that use layering to impress their sense of modernity are everywhere; but few have trod such a diverse and colourful path, and few make the layers of crystals, leggings, jacquard and loose threads look so MASCULINE.

39. Kolor

Often referred to as the ‘Japanese Dries van Noten’, Kolor has built up from its signature washed, crumpled and organic-looking tailoring into a full-bodied collection of muted colours and wantable seperates. Currently stocked at Browns and the Library in the UK, the grapevine tells me there might be a few more accounts to add over the next season or two…

40. Komakino

London’s answer to Rick Owens? The many-belted biker jacket, the detailing, the fact it’s all black… fantastic. Did I mention they’ll be showing at London Fashion Week’s menswear day, too?

A very Autumnal day today, and not in a good way, I’m afraid.  Spent the afternoon sheltering under a tree and watching Great Bowden 2nd XI (or, as they seem to style themselves - the big bullies! – Bowden) playing cricket in the pouring rain.

Still, I thought I’d celebrate the arrival of the Fairest of the Seasons with a couple of pieces of appropriate music – assuming I can get the links to function properly : please bear with me if they don’t.

This is September by David Sylvian.  What?  I hear you – rather rudely-  cry, not that big ponce out of Japan?  The very same.  This particular piece is very brief, but is the opening track from an album which I would probably pack in my knotted handkerchief if I were ever carted off to that putative desert island – Secrets of the Beehive.  He’s not to be heard on this particular song, but most of the LP features a  musician – double-bassist Danny Thompson – who’s also present on a great many of my other favourite (popular) recordings (Nick Drake, John Martyn, Richard Thompson, Kate Bush et al.).

Sylvian September

And here’s another – greatly underrated – Autumnal piece.  This is Beth Gibbons (of Portishead fame)  and Rustin Man with Mysteries. 

Gibbons Mysteries

And a happy Autumn to us all.

Con el video que hoy pongo la neta me faltan siempre palabras. Lo pongo porque les quiero compartir una rola -y video- que siempre que escucho me conmueve y me parte la madre. Es una mezcla perfecta de nostalgia y melancolía, si están dispuestos podrán sentir ambas.

Les dejo a Beth Gibbons y Rustin´Man con Mysteries.

Así es, ambos eran/son de Portishead, otra banda para la que sobran las palabras.

Vai, aceita a verdade. Beth Gibbons é O Cara. Com aquela voz melodiosa, a vocalista do Portishead, há alguns anos, lançou um disquinho solo. Out of Season. Um daqueles que se ouve inteirinho, na ordem e fica sempre com a sensação de algo diferente dançando no peito.

Hoje chove. Segundo o widget da Climatempo no meu desktop, ainda continua por alguns dias, com um friozinho chato que deixa o pé gelado mesmo sob as grossas cobertas. Mas a voz de Gibbons me leva para o tempo de cinza-lá-fora-mas-perfeito-aqui-dentro. Deixa um meio sorriso maroto nos lábios. Não caro leitor, não vá pensando bobagens, pois a alegria vem de outra fonte.

Um cantinho meu para a tempestade.

Tá, confesso, é menos do que provavelmente pensam ou do glamour que já sonhei pra mim antes dos trinta (correndo para alcançar!). Ainda não tem toques personalizados ou uma boa mão de tinta nas paredes. Hoje, então, que a rebeldia tomou conta, tá feinha, com panelas para lavar e uma baguncinha espalhada.

Mas o Brancaleone tá dormindo tranquilo aqui no cantinho. O chapéu de St. Patrick’s Day traz a memória de uma das boas noitadas que tive desde que mudei para SP. O colchão ainda está no chão, mas é grande pro tamanho da preguiça e da vontade. A escrivaninha está, como sempre, lotada de textos e livros. Ah, e as portas estão abertas, um detalhe que sempre faz toda a diferença.

Com todo esse cinza e essa umidade e milímetros de precipitação lá fora, esse cantinho onde eu sou rainha é uma das grandes conquistas de 2009. Realmente, concordo com Beth. Beauty’s got a hold on me. I’ll never let go. It’s a funny time of year.

(letra en español)

Oh, ¿nadie puede ver?,
Tuvimos una guerra que pelear,
Nunca encontramos nuestro camino,
independiente de lo que digan.

Cómo puede sentirse, este mal,
Desde ahora,
Cómo puede sentirse, este mal.

Una tormenta,
En la luz de la mañana,
Siento que,
no puedo decir mas
congelándome a mi misma.

No tuve a nadie a mi lado,
Y eso seguramente no esta bien,
seguramente no esta bien.

Oh, ¿nadie puede ver?,
Tuvimos una guerra que pelear,
Nunca encontramos nuestro camino,
independiente de lo que digan.

Cómo puede sentirse, este error,
A partir de este momento,
Cómo puede sentirse, este error.
(X2)

(englich lyric)

Oh, can’t anybody see,
We’ve got a war to fight,
Never found our way,
Regardless of what they say.

How can it feel, this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.

Storm,
In the morning light,
I feel,
No more can I say,
Frozen to myself.

I got nobody on my side,
And surely that ain’t right,
Surely that ain’t right.

Oh, can’t anybody see,
We’ve got a war to fight,
Never found our way,
Regardless of what they say.

How can it feel, this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.
(X2)