Seventh Tree - Goldfrapp > Reviews > Add Water, Sunshine

Author's product rating:   

Originality	Definitely a cut above the rest
Lyrics	Standard
Quality and consistency of tracks	Flawless
How does it compare to the artist's other releases	Outstanding
Value for Money	Excellent

Advantages:	Perfectly calm, tranquil music, with a kooky spirituality behind it
Disadvantages:	Won't exactly set the clubs alight this summer

Recommend to potential buyers:

yes

Full review

Paulhanton hit the phone with a hammer when he very correctly pointed out that Goldfrapp's third album Supernature has a very watery tone, which detracts away from the music itself. As a duo, Goldfrapp have always had a ditzy shallowness to their music which they seem unable to escape from, which possibly explains why they've changed their style completely for their fourth album, Seventh Tree. The empty discotheque tone of previous albums has been replaced with a fuller, more pastoral tone, heavily inspired by the folky music of Nick Drake and Syd Barrett. Everything has been dialled back to simple acoustic guitar and folksy electronica (is that a legitimate phrase?), which makes the album more a showcase of Alison Goldfrapp's impenetrable and lovely voice than anything else. Will Gregory ups his game as composer, though, offering a series of lilting soundscapes that sum up the low-fi nature of the record.

There's a real retro sound to much of the music, and the tracks could be credited as a series of tributes to The Beach Boys (Some People), The Beatles (Little Bird), Serge Gainsbourg (Cologne Cerrone Houdini) and Kate Bush (A&E), among others. But if I were to simply list who each song sounds like, we'd barely have anything of a review up here, so I'll pad out with some needless but hilarious and diverting filler. Seventh Tree just so happens to be the finest album Goldfrapp have put out to date, an atmospheric collection of songs that individually have merit but together form a cohesive record that doesn't feature one song out of place. Well alright, that's an exaggeration, because the final song "Monster Love" doesn't really need to be here. At ten songs long, the album may feel a little short, but in reality if it dropped song ten and let the outspoken pop of "Caravan Girl" close the record, this would be a more rewarding listen. As it stands, Monster Love may be a very nice song and all, but at least bear with me when I say it should be put somewhere else in the album's track listing. I can't think of a particular good place for it to go, but that says more about the superb placement of the other songs than anything else. There aren't any songs which link directly into the next, but the ongoing themes and tones of the music makes it impossible to prise apart the record and judge it as a collection of tracks.

Not that this is going to stop me from doing just that, though. The obvious highlights here are the bounce of "Happiness" and the illegally fast country drive of "Caravan Girl". Both songs are unashamedly pop, the only songs here which could be labelled in such a way. All the other songs are primarily about atmosphere, creating a spectral presence, whilst these two tracks in particular are mostly about having fun. The moral of "Happiness" - 'give us all your money and you'll find/happiness and peace of mind' chants Goldfrapp - is questionable, but the carnival flair of the chorus provides the most enjoyable moment of the entire album. Likewise, the rush of "Caravan Girl" is unexpected and strangely thrilling, after an album of quiet introspection, which is why it should by all rights close the album, really. But I've already complained about that without providing any worthwhile suggestions for how that could be changed - "Monster Love", which actually does end the album, is a spectral number which takes off into the stars by the end in a moment of music which is both enchanting and slightly nuts. That's the central issue with the album - whilst it is fascinating and highly pleasant, the shallow weirdness that circles the music might put you off. The 'wetness' of the music is gone, replaced by sunshine and choirs of angels and fields of corn and all that, but the love the duo have for the bizarre remains intact.

"Little Bird" is a firm example of this strangeness, utilising a backwards loop of music that Sgt Pepper would be proud of to link the odd whispers of Goldfrapp's lyrics, which are as incomprehensible as they are involving. Something about birds being free to soar, I think is the central premise of the song. Lyrically it's nothing particularly new, but is performed in such a manner as to make the song seem all shiny and refreshing. The shine and sheen of the sunny music is the most important aspect of the album, as the songs in the middle of the album (Eat Yourself and Some People) are practically fillers with nothing much to offer apart from a continuation of the easy-listening goodness of the album. In order to keep this tone consistent, several of the songs seem to have similar musical composition, with the same notes of guitar or keyboard harmonies recurring from time to time for different songs. When they find a solid idea, however, the duo leap all over it. Gregory in particular seems to be having tonnes of fun with one song, which has the majestically inane title of "Cologne Cerrone Houdini". The track is an avant-garde masterpiece of design and execution, with Goldfrapp twittering seductively in what is perhaps her finest vocal performance (and she has a darned good voice, remember) of the album. It's begging to be the soundtrack to some, shall we say 'arty', Swedish films. If it isn't, then we as a film-going public have been soundly let down by those in the business of making Swedish nudie-films.

Although some of the ballads are less songs than musical set-pieces, the band more often than not make their slower numbers compelling and fresh. The opening "Clowns" has a lot to offer, especially for anyone who happens to be a fan of early Pink Floyd. The ghost of Syd Barrett stands (probably talking to himself) over the whole of this album, with Nick Drake's ghost standing right next to him and nodding his head in silent agreement at the music. If either of said ghosts do not like this album, however, I apologise to them. I don't wish to say that either Nick Drake or Syd Barrett approve of the album. But they should. "Road To Somewhere" and "A&E" are very much styled after your music, after all, so to say you don't like it is somewhat hypocritical, Nick and Syd. The way in which "A&E" builds up around a few guitar chords and eventually spins out into a Kate Bush-like falsetto makes it a stand-put moment for the album, and the only ballad which matches it is the misty, hazy slur of "Road To Somewhere". Another subdued chant, the power of the song lies behind the phrasing and phonetic twists Alison Goldfrapp adds to each chorus that goes by, making the song feel as if it is building up to something big. Which, happily, it is.

Seventh Tree is an album to sacrifice a cat to. It stands out as a eerie summer album which not only embraces the sunshine but also uses it as a chance to burn off the excesses of albums past. With this record, Goldfrapp prove that they are no longer ruled by camp glamour, but have instead grown up into a more elegant, Catherine Deneuve sort of style. Which by all accounts, is precisely what they should've been going for from the beginning.