REVIEW: Bernard Butler, Friends and Lovers (Sony/Columbia)
- Wilson Neate
In 1994 after parting company with Suede, Butler ( http://BernardButler.com ) took some time to regroup. Over the next few years his most substantial outing was a collaboration with David McAlmont -- The Sound of McAlmont and Butler -- that spawned a couple of UK hits. Additionally, he contributed his guitar virtuosity to works by a diverse cast of characters including Eno, Tim Booth and Angelo Badalamenti, Aimee Mann, Edwyn Collins, and Neneh Cherry. On top of that, Butler turned in live guest spots with the Manics, Paul Weller, The Cranberries and Sparks, among others.
All in all, it seemed he was content to do the rounds as a coveted session musician. Still, by late-1997, with no solo release, cynics grumbled that the man once hailed as the greatest guitarist of his generation was having trouble finding his solo feet. Worse still, it was suggested in some quarters that he was headed down the same path as other noted British guitarist/songwriters, who -- once deprived of the unique synergy of a band context -- haven't managed to fulfill their potential or replicate past glories. The disturbing historical precedents that came to mind were John Squire and Johnny Marr, both of whom have -- arguably -- struggled to find or create new contexts for their talent.
But when Bernard Butler released People Move On in 1998, it was evident that he was still very much a contender. People Move On was a big album running the gamut of slow, simple, introspective fare, stirring orchestral arrangements, and unabashedly grandiose -- but tastefully placed -- rock guitar antics, the likes of which hadn't sounded so good for ages. Not only was Butler back in the spotlight but he was writing, playing most of the music, and singing to boot; as a vocalist he proved he could carry a tune remarkably well, his fragile vocals tucked into the multi-layered folds of the music.
So does the second album pass muster? Indeed it does, and with flying colors. On Friends and Lovers Butler emerges as the frontman of a group and that's crucial to the equation here. He's found a context with his tried and tested touring band who play on this outing and you get the sense that he's really in his element at last, self-assured enough to scale back and strip down the production so as to show off his talent. Here, he trades in the orchestral numbers, the layers of instrumentation and the big production for straight-ahead, no-nonsense, guitar-based, riff-centred fare in the spirit of Oasis (but infinitely more classy), rich in melodies and harmonies, often with Terry Miles's perfectly integrated keyboards.
But the outstanding aspect of this record is Butler's vocal performance. He fronts most of the tunes with a stronger voice, full of character, confidence and range. Whether it's almost unaccompanied on slower, introspective numbers such as "Everyone I Know is Falling Apart" or gleefully leading the charge on tunes like "What Happened to Me," it's wholly effective. As Butler commented recently, on this album, "[w]hatever people are getting out of my guitar playing, I wanted them to get out of my voice." Friends and Lovers certainly succeeds on that count.
From the outset, with its punchy, upbeat, Bolan-esque title track, Friends and Lovers is replete with standouts. The first single is "I'd Do it Again if I Could," a thumping keyboard-driven romp polished off with addictive harmonies. "You Must Go On" is another tasty chunk of rock, brimming with piano and jubilant guitar. Although this is apparently a very personal track, both lyrically and musically it's guaranteed to raise the spirits of all but the most jaded listener. Then there's "What Happened to Me," a bubblegum pop-rock thumper with more catchy harmonies. With the right video it could be massive.
Less direct -- but no less successful -- is "Cocoon," a dense, melodic, mid-tempo number, broken up halfway with some gear-shifting guitar work that momentarily slows the proceedings down and then eases everything back up to (medium) speed again. "No Easy Way Out" is similarly paced, this time in the spirit of mid-'70s Stones ballads. It sets out as a modest acoustic piece but Butler works it up into a swelling, majestic number, his vocals standing out over the burgeoning instrumentation.
While the subtle crest and trough of Butler's singing flawlessly presides over the warm and optimistic, but slower, "Smile," the sparse "Everyone I Know Is Falling Apart" really showcases his vocal abilities. On this one his vocals almost aren't there but they still manage to lull the echoing guitar and gospel keyboards through to the song's conclusion.
However, Bernard Butler keeps the best until last, or next to last. At more than eight minutes, "Has Your Mind Got Away?" is an edgy pop epic. Starting with a nod to Zeppelin's "No Quarter," the track rises, falls, drifts and coalesces into moments of intensity: the swimming texture is occasionally pierced by stabbing guitars and tough -- almost sneering -- departures from Butler's initial vocal lilt. Butler sticks a fine solo in on the other side of a mid-track plateau and eventually transforms the song into a Pink Floyd-esque slice of atmospheric, floating pop psychedelia.
Often on Friends and Lovers you recognize that the music is deeply allusive but it's never a case of simple, reducible citations. That's a testament to Butler's songwriting skills as, even in the context of the paired-down approach on this CD, he manages to craft a complex and evocative sound that gets bigger and better with each listening.
