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Scale

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Herbert

 
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Scale
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Avg: 3.5 (170 ratings)

Glorious show tunes for post-club hangovers.

  • We Say...

    Musically, house-music producer Matthew Herbert's specialty has always been to build tight little boxes, only to let fly within their confines. He's notorious for the unusually exacting nature of his production methods, often allowing himself to create tracks solely via the manipulation of samples of everyday matter, much the same way Matmos have — indeed, Herbert utilized some of the same source material as Matmos, on 2001's Bodily Functions. But Scale is a fully realized move away from dancefloor concerns, and a step toward... show tunes? Scale has been described as "Broadway house,” a semi-apt description that overlooks one thing: Most of its songs seem less suited for the Great White Way than off-Broadway.

    The emphasis here is as much on songwriting as arranging and production — not entirely a new thing for Herbert, but one that he's seldom done this well. It's also a distinctly charged kind of songwriting. Herbert has long been an outspoken political activist, and that's sometimes moved into his music with less than easeful results. But here, he folds lines like, "Cover up when exposed, you ought to/Wise up to the things they taught you/Cover up, it's an allied slaughter/Pucker up, it's a friendly torture,” so cleanly into the sumptuous "Something Isn't Right” that you barely notice their bite until they've worked themselves through music that sticks instantly. The music itself is paradoxical: a feast of scraps, a cross between Chic on a budget and chintz-jazz so airy it seems transparent, only to catch you like a butterfly net.

    That's even more the effect on "Harmonise,” which is built on a little hopping-in-place rhythm richly contoured by a ping-ponging, dead-stringed bass line and flickers of flugelhorn. (It sounds like flugelhorn, anyway, but knowing Herbert's habits it's probably a tweaked sample of a shoe factory being demolished.) Dani Siciliano, Herbert's long-time vocal collaborator, negotiates the melody as flexibly as a boning knife, and the double-tracked "Up and down” refrain features some of the most playful vocal arrangements this side of classic doo-wop. It builds to this strangely layered epiphany: "You are the world/I am your people.” After all, you've got to give the people what they want if you want them to hear you.

  • They Say...

    Given Scale's use of sounds that come from associable objects like fuel pumps and coffins, as well as its maker's unflagging devotion to recording methods of greater (and almost Jackass-like) extremes, it would be easy to prejudge the album as dry and joyless. One poor drummer was recorded under water, in a hot air balloon, and in a car driving 100 miles an hour -- hey, for kicks next time, why not record his finger cymbals as he grapples a shark wearing a Dick Cheney mask? Thankfully, if all you care about is the listenability of the results, all the contextual and conceptual stuff matters not a lick. Herbert is more upset about the state of the planet than ever, especially when it comes to the actions and inactions of Bush and Blair, but he has also made it known that he aimed to make an enjoyable, richly musical album full of melodies and multi-part harmonies. If the occasionally overcooked Goodbye Swingtime and the thoroughly constricted Plat du Jour were necessary phases to reach this place, so be it -- each of Scale's first four songs rival anything in his past, whether it's "Going Round," "Suddenly," his best remix work, or his productions on Dani Siciliano's Likes... and Roisin Murphy's Ruby Blue. It's clearly the most pop-oriented songs on the latter two releases that inform Scale the most. The most biting political line comes during the first verse of "The Movers and the Shakers": "I just don't know how to bring about your downfall/Damn fool, go figure out how those Christian bones can orchestrate shock and awe." However, for the remainder of the album, it's not difficult to forget about Herbert's motives and issues and take full delight in the shapely sounds, whether they're coming from a drum recorded in a cave, an orchestra recorded at Abbey Road, or vocalists recorded in Herbert and Siciliano's home. Though Herbert has outdone himself and matches his ambitions with his achievements, the songs are unmistakably his and Siciliano's, sounding like no one else, twisting and swinging and drifting with optimum vibrancy. Some of them are big and bold enough to be used in a stage production. All of them are 100 percent heavenly, even when they're dealing with loss.

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