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| EDITORIAL:
MUSIC Tricky BLOWBACK (Hollywood Records) *** (three stars) ----------------------------  Tricky
doesn’t make eye contact with concert audiences – even
with fans in the front row. Instead he’s usually positioned
sideways or with his back facing the masses. Arguably, in the last few years, he’s also turned his back on his music. This slippage probably started shortly after 1996’s Pre-Millennium Tension, the follow-up to 1995’s excellent Maxinquaye, Tricky’s first solo effort, which along with “Blue Lines” by Massive Attack (Tricky’s former collaborators) became a blueprint for the trip-hop style of music. At numerous times throughout the last decade, the peak creative powers displayed on those albums, had some critics calling the UK-based performer (born Adrian Thaws) a pioneer, a genius or both. The sheen of those superlatives has faded. Now, with the recent release of his latest album, “Blowback,” we get the lowdown: Tricky didn’t always give a damn. It’s that simple. He admits as much in the press materials accompanying these 13 often-intriguing and yes, highly accessible tracks. “I know people have been waiting for me to make this album,” he says about Blowback. “But I was like, I’m not giving people what they want.” “I was making records deliberately so they wouldn’t get on the radio,” he explains, referring to 1998’s messy, unfocused “Angels With Dirty Faces,” and the next year’s similarly sporadic, mostly hip-hop “Juxtapose.”  He further details his stubborn ways: “Whatever you like, I’m
going to make the opposite kind of album.”It became obvious that Tricky was an artist people revered, but also hated to love. And although accessibility is “Blowback’s” mission, all fans and critics really ever wanted was consistency. The new album successfully provides a little of both, while bringing him closer to his old form (also helped by last spring’s “Mission Accomplished,” a strong, four-song EP). For “Blowback,” Tricky has enlisted a crew of name performers – Live singer Ed Kowalczyk, the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Anthony Kiedis, Flea and John Frusciante; and even pop veteran Cyndi Lauper. Neither “Girls” nor “Wonder Woman,” featuring various Chili Peppers, generates the required heat. They’re decent rock tunes: melodic and hook-laden with radio-friendly guitar parts. The latter track is more pop-oriented, interpolating the theme song to the popular, late- ‘70s TV show. It’s what the Counting Crows would sound like if they suddenly got nostalgic. The former tune is merely Tricky injecting his dark side into the Chili Peppers rock-rap template that’s been closely followed Korn and Limp Bizkit. Tricky’s dark side and unpredictability permeates the album’s better tracks. After all, the beauty of early-stage Tricky was his somewhat demonic spirit. He spoke and rapped with an ominous rasp as if a million unfiltered cigarettes burdened his lungs. His lyrics were obsessed with obsession. His thoughts and themes were marked by rebelliousness for all seasons. As if to further emphasize power and malevolence, he had muse, Martina Topley-Bird, who was his, equal and his alter-ego at any given moment on “Maxinquaye” tracks like “Ponderosa” and “Hell is ‘Round the Corner.” It was a unique pairing made more magical by original beats – soulful and sinister sound collages created by Tricky’s dense, hip-hop and R & B beatmining, slick samples and fresh arrangements that flouted convention and context. Byrd is long gone, but Tricky uses Lauper effectively on “Five Days,” and breaks in a new muse, Ambersunshower, as well as a new protégé, Hawkman. He supports each with the required dead-on sonic touches. Ambersunshower glows on the brilliant slow burn, relationship drama “You Don’t Wanna,” which sounds and feels like a long-lost cousin to Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).” She also duets with Tricky on the pretty, lullaby-like “Your Name.” Meanwhile Hawkman provides a commanding Eddy Vedder-like presence on nearly half of the album’s tracks. His raps on “Diss Never” and “Evolution Revolution Love” (with Kowalczyk) are made powerful by a deep, growling ragga patois, representing him as part Buddha, part bad guy. These collaborations have helped Tricky back on a meaningful course. He’s suddenly relevant all over again, which can truly only happen when an artist gives a damn. Originally published in The San Diego Union-Tribune, July 5, 2001 Photo Credit: Anton Corbijn |
