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So
it’s all been said before and, doubtlessly, said better.
But it’s a something that needs repeating every once and
again. Mind you, this comes a little late since Alan McGee’s
Poptones released Denise James’ album back in August/September
last year. But the world wasn’t listening then since other
things were on the agenda. Well, the world isn’t listening
now either, but it never does anyway.A
Fortunately for Ms James, the world can still catch up. Her
songs are not concerned with a slick, breaking beat production
that sounds dated by the time the record hits the streets. Her
album has a more laid back and comfortable country-tinged production
with reverbed vocals and jangling guitars. The world only listens
to a big noise, not a pretty melody.
How the Detroit-resident ended up on English Poptones is a bit
of a mystery, but so is Denise James herself. Rumor has it that
she once sang with His Name Is Alive but scant information is
available. Her (assuming its her) pictures on the sleeve resemble
a French New Wave actress, slightly out of focus and fading
into blue. But don’t take my word for it; this could be
all wrong. Who wants the truth anyway? It’s boring and
trite.
Love is on the lips; it’s a word beneath everyone’s
breath. Every song on the album has the word ‘love’
or a similar intent within. If a sampling were taken of 1000
random songs, certainly 998 would be explicitly about love.
(One exemption would probably be a song about drugs. The other
would probably be a Bob Dylan song where no one knows what he
is on about so you just kind of shake your head and agree with
him).
“Maybe I wasn’t born to love,” Denise sings on
“Who Sent You Love”. That line is the repeated consolation
for the lonely, the scorned, the too young and too old, the
out of luck… (the list goes on). They can repeat it over
and over until out of breath, but that doesn’t change a
thing. Maybe the world still isn’t listening.
| Matthew
Patrick, July 2002 |
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