Trembling Blue Stars
Alive To Every Smile CD
Sub Pop.
by Keith Mclachlan.
November 4, 2001.
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The question is Goth and whether it could possibly be
back in vogue? I suppose there have always been
outposts of it, even now labels like Cold Meat
Industry and Projekt flourish among the likes of
Fortunate Hazel but it has also now suddenly
re-entered my world. I won't admit to ever being much
of a goth in the first place. I dug some Clan of
Xymoxx and of course the Cure of 'Pornography' and
'Faith' but never Bauhaus cheekbones or anything silly
like that. But earlier this year there was the
fantastic Cloudboy album which struck me a bit gothic
and now here is the new Trembling Blue Stars plucking
the same melodramatic strings. Used to be in the days
of the Field Mice and even the early days of Trembling
Blue Stars there was an undeniable brightness to the
music even as Bob was found waxing liturgical about
the tragedies of modern romance. But here with his
new big band sound the music seems irretrievably dour
and heavy, there are two exceptions, granted, the
bouncey 'St. Paul's Cathedral at Night' and the single
'Ghost of an Unkissed Kiss' but mostly the mood is
rather maudlin and of the sort of deep longing. And
of course it is likely the most beautiful record Bob W
has ever written. The band is the key, where in the
past it was simply drum machines and guitars and Bob's
voice trembling waveringly over top now the songs have
depth to counter the emotional starkness, the
arrangements are basking in new found musical bounty
as harpsichords and real drums and synths and gorgeous
female backing vocals and Bob's newly confident vocal
stride all battling for your attention. Everything is
magical, the songs are all so complete and perfect, it
does take me back to 1983 but happy is that journey.
Then to the words, they, are likely, still, to be the
focus and though he may fight to deny it it does
appear that his muse remains the same as while many of
these songs don't really approach the subject of her
they seem to revolve around the gut reactions inside
of Bob concerning her and that love. So he struggles
with himself, as protagonist, in many of the songs to
move on. It could be true that the words are about a
new flame/crush as seems to be documented in the
country-ish 'Ammunition' but I would have to sort
through his garbage and bank draughts to uncover that
sort of information, easier, then, for me to simply
insist the boy will never forget the love of his life.
That he has chosen to memorialize that, which to him,
always represented perfection is a glorious mode of
process that has led to sustainment of a view of
romance that isn't soundtracked by a Timbaland beat
and sold as a sterilized package for the eyes but
rather a wide-eyed gaze or even lens as analogue for
your own heart.
Trembling Blue Stars
Broken By Whispers CD
Sub Pop. SPCD 504.
by Keith McLachlan.
February 26, 2000.
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We just saw 'Wonder Boys' last evening and while I only
found it ok, I couldn't help but compare it to the
most celebrated movie of last year 'American Beauty'
what with all of the middle aged dope smokers on parade
with scantilly clad, nubile young actresses who are
either on or aspiring to be on a weekly television
drama. But Michael Douglas evolved over the course of
the movie while Kevin Spacey devolved. The knowledge of
why anyone would want to be a stupid tenager again is
not within me. But Michael Douglas grows up in the
span of two hours, ah the miracle of cinematic time,
and the last scene has him in Frances McDormands house
writing a book cause you know he is a writer in the
movie and actually a fairly convincing one because he
is not enveloped with some debonair and impenetrable
wit, his books are shared with anyone but his readers.
Something like that happens in the movie, but then when I thought of this record I thought of Bob W being a real person. He is not twee for the sake of the song. Of course I have never met him so I don't know what he is talking about but the fact that he has written three albums about one girl (who knows if this one is about anne-mair but the same themes from before are present), who could put on such a pose of obssessive devotion?
Stalker pop is not a genre that has a great number of attendants but maybe it should cause these three albums by Trembling Blue Stars are just amazing. They can be applied to everyone's life, maybe not with the same sort of dogged persistence, but like reading a great novel transports you to a universe where you feel completely at home, a great pop record can carry you to a place where you share everything in common with the voices in the songs and Bob's world is one I would be very comforatable sharing a duplex with Bill Bradley in.
The music hasn't evolved as much as the emotions have but it is slightly different here. No obvious dance numbers exist on this album, there are a few drawn out what might be called hypnotic tracks with electronic dissonance supporting the melodies. No Anne-Mari lead vocals on display either. This is a good thing to my ears. I know she is popular with a great deal of the twee set but I wonder if they actually realize she can't sing? At least not with the same emotional investment as Bob. All one has to do to realize this is to pop on that dreadful Picture Centre album and witness the debacle that is her voice. But this is no place to be mean, she does a fantastic stint as back-up vocalist here. A few of of the songs have that country feel that we all love so much from days gone by in songs like 'Canada' and 'She's Always There'. I wish my diary could be crafted into something so beautiful as this.
Trembling Blue Stars
Her Handwriting CD
Shinkansen. Shinkansen 3CD.
by Keith McLachlan.
December 26, 1996.
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Just when you thought Bob from the Field Mice couldn't get any more
sad, along comes his new solo album Her Handwriting, a beautifully
constructed album about the end of his relationship with his life's
love Annmarie. This is an amazingly courageous album, to place your
emotions completely above board for everyone to feel empathy towards,
or more likely in the case of vermin British journalists, to mock and
jeer. But this is such a special album, a treasure for anyone who has
ever loved and lost. I read Everett True's startling review and I
completely agree with it--this is music for the lonely when they are
alone. Musically, it has elements of both the Field Mice and Northern
Picture Library, but its soul is all Bob's. "What am I gonna do, I
don't want to live without love, but I don't want to love nobody but
you"-from "Nobody but You"- here's hoping Bob finds another love that
could have such powerful influence so as to drive him to create such
emotional perfection. Sniff-Sniff.
Trembling Blue Stars
Lips That Taste Of Tears CD
Shinkansen. Shinkansen 10CD.
by Keith McLachlan.
May 3, 1998.
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Well he is still pretty blue, but
Bob Wratten has returned a bit of brightness to his musical notebook as
the second Trembling Blue Stars rides a definite wave to the point of
coming to terms. The first lp (the brilliant 'Her Handwriting') was all
about his lost love and well I imagine all these songs are as well but the
record starts off with singular laments, then moves into regrets and then
finally (it seems) into letting go. For by the time the beautiful closing
track 'Farewell to Forever' comes, Bob is able to realize this 'I don't
know what my future is, I just know who it isn't with.' Which definitely
sounds like closure
to me.
The music is more similar to prime Snowball-era Field Mice with the return of the jangle and bouncey tunes like 'Letter Never Sent' and 'You've Done Nothing Wrong'. The first record had an interminable heaviness that maybe made it difficult listening on sunny, summer days but this record is far more versatile what with the silly dance numbers like 'Tailspin' and 'The Rainbow' but all in all another necessary document of love.
Trembling Blue Stars
The Ghost Of An Unkissed Kiss EP CD-EP
Shinkansen. Shinkansen 31CD.
by Keith Mclachlan.
September 22, 2001.
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The Field Mice record 'For Keeps' was recorded as a
full five piece band and yet mostly it still sounded
like a one-man and his sadness outfit. Here though
TBS has flexed their once impotent muscles, the
guitars sound strangely stimulated and there are drum
fills that while not exactly Tommy Lee god of
thunder-like actually sound like a real drummer is
playing them and a lovely melodic piano blends into
the background as well, all forcing Bob W to press hs
feyness up a notch to get his sentiments across. He
does so swimmingly however and whether it be the truth
of being on Subpop finally hitting home this might be
referred to as the TBS rawk release as they take on a
nice new shape with their new musicianly horn
o'plenty. The title track is a bit of poetry even if
it posssesses an awkward phrasing as a title and the
b-sides are all a-side worthy especially the beaut 'AS
Long As She's Still Needed'. Nothing's changed then
TBS are still brilliant, even while Matt Shinkansen's
wit dies a slow death.
Turn On
Turn On CD
Drag City.
by Keith McLachlan.
October 12, 1997.
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Ah, the life of a Rokk'n'Roll star. Messrs. Gane and O'hagan, from
Stereolab and the High LLamas respectively, wake up each morning and their
only worry is whether the Jag or the Porsche has enough gas to get them to
their helipad which is there waiting to jet them off to some exotic locale
with a bevy of beauties and other distractions.
Sliding out of their satin sheets into the bright new day at no later then 2 or 3 PM these fine fellas are surely living it up. How else could you explain the fact that this near throwaway release, probably knocked out in a couple of days, is so magically lazy and cheerful?
Surely their state of mind enhances the bubbling of the antique electronics on display, surely their lap full of luxuries makes the cheeky atmosphere even more delightful. Surely pauperous musicians could never appreciate such effortlessness. For even the lovely and eloquent ice princess Laetitia sounds coaxingly cozy.
Drag City deserves a cheer of praise, for releasing this bit of self-indulgence in our backyard, for this LP from the opening note is one steady stream of the sound of nonchalance and the feeling of being stranded in an oasis away from the rigours of the modern world, and glad for it.
It is all instrumental, save a few do dos from the aforementioned Laetitia. It had to be as Mr. Gane surely possesses an analogue mind, thinking in blips and bleeps rather than cliches, he and Mr. O'hagan, strong enough for the ride, convert those bleeps into moments of velvet psychedelia strong enough to peel the cynicism from all the bucketheads the world over.