Peter Gabriel: Scratch My Back
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Friday, 12, Feb 2010 05:20
By Jack Clark
EMI, out February 15th 2010
In a nutshell...
Gabriel paints broadly with a minimalist's palette
What's it all about?
It's Peter Gabriel paying homage to bands both old and new. He pares each song back to its most basic core, then produces it and mixes it and produces it until every part sounds distinct. No guitars, no drums, just strings, voice and other orchestral instruments.
Who's it by?
Peter Gabriel, originally of Genesis before moving onto a major solo career and now a keen proponent of world music. These days he plays a key role in popular hippie hangout WOMAD festival.
What the others say
"In places, though, Gabriel's approach pays dividends by casting new, unexpected light on familiar material." - The Independent
"'My body is a cage,' he intones on Arcade Fire's eponymous song. These days Gabriel's body bears closer resemblance to a bouncy castle, which merely pushes the ludicrous solemnity of the enterprise closer to giggling-in- assembly territory." - The Times
As an example...
Given the covers' nature a lyric doesn't seem fitting. Musically, instead of Street Spirit's looping guitars Gabriel substitutes for sparse piano chords and a reed-thin voice.
Likelihood of a trip to the Grammys
The strings, occasional screams and rasping qualities of Gabriel's voice will preclude the album from mainstream adoration, but it will crop up in the post-Grammys blog posts as one of the albums that "should've made it in".
So is it any good?
The problem is the pace. With a selection of huge songs to play with - from the Arcade Fire's My Body is a Cage to Radiohead's Street Spirit to The Magnetic Field's The Book of Love - Gabriel's decision to treat each one with the same sparse musical palette ultimately degrades the songs as a whole.
Essentially, the album should be viewed as one long cover song, because no particular moment (song) has the ability to stand out from the crowd. Even My Body is a Cage is reduced to a stewing anthem, punctuated by maudlin strings, papery, whispered lyrics and at one point an incredibly misadvised scream which comes across as more pastiche than pop art.
It's a brilliant concept with which to make a covers record - taking out the modern musical lynchpins of guitar, bass and drums - but it doesn't leave you with an awful amount to play with. Were Gabriel a deeply gifted classical composer, perhaps he could have covered the songs with the stretching variety of artists such as Alarm Will Sound and Brad Mehldau, but instead he perpetrates the common fraud made by pop musicians which is that to make something classical is to make it dark and/or brooding and/or leeringly unpleasant. It's as though classical music is by default "serious business" and can never have a sense of play. His conversion of The Magnetic Field's "The Book of Love" from a joyful, celebratory number into a junkie death march should be noted down as one of the worst muggings committed by a cover artist.
The NME have reported that Thom Yorke has only streamed the cover of Street Spirit once and Gabriel has said to them that he's not sure if Yorke approves. It doesn't surprise us. The album is wilting, shameful drivel.
2.5/10