REVIEW: Midnight Oil, Redneck Wonderland (Columbia)
- Chris Hill
Having every subsequent album measured against Diesel and Dust is inevitable for Midnight Oil. "Beds are Burning", "The Dead Heart", "Dreamworld", "Sometimes" - there isn't a bad song to be found on that record. To their credit, the Oils don't stage a retreat to the past with their latest, Redneck Wonderland. The sound remains raw and heavy, like their last studio album, Breathe, filled with a edgy anger that bleeds through in gritty, uncompromising lyrics and pounding rhythms.
Unfortunately, Breathe was stingy with the essential Oils' magic. The murky production overwhelmed the crisp lead guitars of Martin Rotsey and Jim Moginie. Redneck Wonderland avoids that trap. The production unit here (Magoo, the Oils, and old friend Warne Livesy) allows breathing room for the guitars and space for Peter Garrett's distinctive vocals on all twelve tracks.
The album opener and roaring title track rages with disdain for the current Australian political situation. Like the town crier alerting citizens to danger, "Redneck Wonderland" is a wake-up call to ANY country fighting internal wars against conservatism and intolerance - "I don't want to run, I don't want to stay/'Cos everything that's near and dear/is old and in the way...time to take a stand/Redneck wonderland". Backed by a heavy guitar riff and Rob Hirst's pounding drums, it reenergized my faith in this band's ability to use music as a means to air the dirty laundry of society - proselytizing and adamant on working change.
Other album themes: the growing disconnection between humanity and the natural world ("Concrete", "Comfortable Place on the Couch"), intolerance (the title cut, "White Skin Black Heart", and misplaced capitalistic priorities ("Seeing is Believing", "Return to Sender"). Wandering all over the political and social map, the songs coax and bully awareness.
This album also straddles the musical development of the Oils. "Blot" - a spoken-word rant on media celebrities - is a sonic wonder, with the same experimental quality that endeared 1982's 10,9,8,7...1 to millions. "Cemetry in My Mind" and "The Great Gibber Plain" start off with the Oils' trademark acoustic guitars, though the latter segues into a fuzzed guitar backing a chorus. The album closer, "Drop in the Ocean", with its jangly piano and spare sound is a palate cleanser, with a final "one" sung both in plea and assertion - a tone reminiscent of Blue Sky Mining's "One Country".
It's interesting to read the Sony website's song notes. [ http://www.sonymusic.com.au/artists/midnightoil/home.html ]. Speaking of "Concrete in My Mind", drummer/songwriter Rob Hirst says, "I think it's a really successful track and putting it no. 2 on the record really sorts out the people that are going to go the distance on the album. Because there is some more melodic stuff later, but to put it number 2 it's like, okay, this is what this record is about."
This conviction defines Midnight Oil. From the "White Fella Black Fella" tour of the outback in 1986 to Garrett's presidency of the Australian Conservation Foundation, this is a band that walks what they talk.
As Garrett sings, "If you can't conceive of better lines and better times/then let silence bury you." The Oils have much to say. Sadly, it's unlikely the urgency of their message will ever stale. Thankfully, Midnight Oil is there to remind us of our obligation to make the world a better place.
