Pop music
His way
Marcus Berkmann
No one pays much attention to Mark Knopfler any more, possibly because his old band Dire Straits have become a byword for 1980s blandness and dullness. Is this fair? Does it matter? No and probably not, because the huge wads he made with them — Brothers In Arms remains one of the biggest sellers of all time — have enabled Knopfler to do exactly what he likes ever since. Which happily includes two fine solo albums. Golden Heart (1996) and Sailing To Philadelphia (2000). I've written about them here before: they are two of my favourite records of the past few years. Virtually alone of his contemporaries Knopfler has improved with age. His songs on these albums are stronger than ever, and the production slickness that overwhelmed Brothers In Arms has dissipated, although his attention to detail has never
wavered. If people as old and ugly as Knopfler were still allowed to have hits, songs like The Last Laugh' and 'Do America' and 'Are We In Trouble Now' and the two title tracks would be pop standards by now. As it is, each album sold three or four million, which isn't bad going. And they set high standards. There aren't many new albums I'd buy automatically, but a new Knopfler is certainly one of them.
So what's with The Ragpicker's Dream (Mercury)? In the past there have been long gaps between Knopfler's releases — six years after Brothers In Arms, five years after On Every Street, four years between the solo albums. Either his perfectionism slowed things down, or that was as much work as he could be bothered to do. Now, a mere two years after Sailing To Philadelphia, comes a new one and it's a strange beast indeed. 'Why Ay Man', which in former times would have been known as 'the single', is the shambolic theme to Auf Wiedersehen Pet, and it precedes another 11 equally ramshackle songs which sound as though they have been recorded live. That's right — no overdubs to speak of, no production finesse and not a lot for the ear to grab hold of in the first few hearings. My first thought was, blimey, Knopfler wants to be fashionable. There's no doubt that rock music is passing through one of its rawer phases, and as one critic has put it, passion is more at a premium right now than finesse. Even Phil Collins has started recording with just guitars, bass and drums, so desperate is he to sell records again.
But Knopfler has never worried about being fashionable before, and I can't believe that he has started worrying now. No, I think he's just doing what he wants, as always. He has a fine band of crack sessioneers. He is obviously writing a lot of songs, and for once he would rather get a record out than tinker in the studio for another 18 months. Personally, I wish he'd tinkered in the studio for another 18 months. The Ragpicker's Dream is disappointingly thin, both in tunes and, I suspect, in long-term appeal. Early copies come with a free live CD that will make you want to avoid his concerts as well.
When I bought the Knopfler I also bought the new Kathryn Williams a crazed whim that may have had something to do with its £10.99 price tag. Williams is not as famous as Knopfler and needs all the marketing help she can get, although her Little Black Numbers album was nominated for the Mercury a year or two back, in the girl-with-an-acoustic-guitar-on-asmall-label-who-hasn't-a-chance-of-winning category. Like so many products of the recent acoustic boonniet Little Black Numbers was pleasant enough but didn't exactly set the heart racing. Williams's songs are fragile, her voice barely rises above a whisper and her best friend plays a cello; 45 minutes drift by happily. At first Old Low Light (Caw) sounds like more of the same, but its merits quickly emerge. This is a much more confident album, richer in its arrangements and ideas, with a lovely undertow of melancholy to offset the sweetness. If you find Norah Jones a little too good to be true, this may be to your taste. And no track called 'Why Aye Man' anywhere in sight. .
Previous page
