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The Kirsty MacColl web site
BEADY:
Kirsty MacColl casts a sardonic eye over you, me and Blankety
BlankOf all Kirsty MacColl's sporadic hints at her talent over the years, it's actually There's A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis that best prepares you for this sparkling exhibition of intelligent pop writing. For here, lurking beneath a deceptively demure exterior of jaunty folk rock and Kirsty's own lavish harmonies and rather subdued singing style, is the album which finally confirms that Kirsty MacColl can not only write a mean pop tune but can fling the verbal vitriol with the best of them.
A gentle cover version of The Kinks' Days apart, all the songs on Kite were written by her, some in conjunction with guitarists Pete Glenister or Johnny Marr. It's a cornucopia of great pop tunes and catchy choruses, one tumbling right after the other, with flawless arrangements ranging from reflective solo acoustic guitar to irresistibly sprightly fiddles and flowing, tasteful rock with a dash of country. (Johnny Marr himself, David Gilmour, Simple Minds drummer Mel Gaynor and former Paul Young and Jools Holland bassist Pino Palladino are among the musicians.) And lyrically, to find a whole album of such effortlessly executed wit and wordplay with a minimum of contrivance-well, Elvis Costello must be just green with envy.
But it's the content rather than the construction that stops you in your tracks. Morrissey? A mere novice. Clive James? Not in her league. Julie Burchill? Who's she? Whether casting her beady eye over the world outside or looking at old friends or relationships, MacColl unleashes volley after volley of sardonic, withering quips. Thatcher's values ("City banker looks are in/The heartless heart, the chinless chin"), the contrast between storybook romance and grim reality for girls ("The boots just go back on the socks that stayed on/The next day they treat you like dirt"), or the scramble for fame itself ("People who've seen you on Blankety Blank, or in the bank/Your 15 minutes start now") - nothing escapes her barbs. But there's tenderness and obvious personal regret in there too along with a lot of kinder humour, while her songsmith's sympathetic eye for detail is reminiscent of Squeeze's work at its unassuming best.
Dissents? It would be rather nice to hear her voice a bit louder, if only to break through the sometimes almost suffocating gloss applied to all 12 tracks. (The CD has three more, two sung rather dodgily in French, one a curiously jazzy, upbeat version of Kate& Anna McGarrigle's Complainte Pour Ste Catherine.) Also a more critical producer than husband Steve Lillywhite might have got a bit more spirit and attack out of a rather nonchalant voice that has evidently been oohing, aaahing and generally playing second fiddle for too long.
Otherwise, expect to see Kite high on everybody's list of favourites come the year's end.
Ian Cranna 
Assorted uncredited reviewsSkipping along at a fair old pace, friend of the stars Kirsty MacColl comes up with a self-penned corker which wipes away the memory of There’s A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He’s Elvis at last. A Marrish guitar races along beneath a sociological tale of closed hospitals and water privatisation which will probably get banned from the airwaves, but deserves to be a hit for its thoughtful lyric and turn of speed. It’s certainly more fun than dad’s Dirty Old Town.
I Don't remember Kirsty being this tyrannical with her grip on a melody before, but maybe doing noble battle with swaggering guitars demanded it. Right-on lyricism dips into emotional shadow, then rolls down physical hillocks. Blimier still, she covers The Smiths’ You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby, emerging as a female Morrissey. "Got to take it, gotta grab it, gotta get it up and shag it.. .in this free world"? I don’t recall her being a foul mouthed bitch before either, but she’s all the better for it. Kindly don’t slip away again.
I'm so relieved that Kirsty put the Smiths' You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby on the B-side. 'Twould be a crime indeed if she got labelled as Ms Hip Cover Versh, when she's a neat little songwriter on her own steam. Free World tumbles along like a litter of carefree labrador puppies who can't get to where they wanna go fast enough. Does she really sing "You've gotta get it up and shag it in the free world"? I do hope so.
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