This is getting silly now.
For fans of Andy Bell’s work, the past few years have been a thrilling ride, marked by a steady stream of releases across his various projects. In just the last 18 months, he has delivered two GLOK albums (one live, the other a collaboration with Timothy Clerkin), the excellent ‘Interplay’ with Ride, and now his third solo album, all alongside the ongoing Mantra of the Cosmos project.
While ‘The View from Halfway Down’ was something of a smorgasbord of finger-plucked folk and psyche-pop, ‘Flicker’ added floods of reverb, but on both albums, Bell’s vocals were discernible at the usual volume in the mix. However, on this third offering, the former(?) Oasis man is happy to let the music do the talking, with his voice more of an additional instrument which adds to the timbre of the song, rather than the focal point.
Before he fades into the background, Bell eases us into the album with shimmering opener ‘Panic Attack’, a driving, motorik track featuring a signature uplifting chorus, paying homage to Neu! Appropriately, the German band’s guitarist, Michael Rother, makes an appearance on lead single ‘…I’m In Love’, a reimagined and retitled take on The Passions’ song, with Dot Allison delivering the lead vocals as layers of fuzzy reverb wash over the listener.
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The overall komische vibe pervades the album, but it’s just one element of centrepiece ‘Apple Green UFO’. Across its eight-minute run time, it also incorporates Tony Allen-esque percussion, nagging trumpets and strangled guitars. Less a song than a shuffling, slinky opus, one gets the impression that it’s a mere glimpse of what unfolded in the studio.
Remarkably, the recording of ‘…I’m In Love’ inspired Bell to completing the half-finished album in one balmy summer night, and the sense of immediate inspiration radiates in the music. The electro-pastoral title track is an immersive instrumental which feels instantaneous, while the bubbling ‘The Notes You Never Hear’ is succinct but fresh at just under two minutes. Elsewhere, ‘Madder Lake Deep’ both floats above the clouds and swims in shoegazey serenity, with Bell successfully relaying its dream-inspired essence.
Yet for all the ideas, it’s a patient album: the deft funk of ‘Music Concrete’ takes its time, with a muttered repeated title, while ‘Space Station Mantra’ pulses and fizzes skywards, bringing things full circle with more motorik murmuring.
As a musician, Andy Bell has always channelled other-worldly atmospherics, but on ‘Pinball Wanderer’ he’s operating in a separate, groovy, dimension.
7/10
Words: Richard Bowes
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