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The Kirsty MacColl web site
INTERVIEW
This is a review of Tropical Brainstorm
Her first album of new material since 1994's criminally overlooked Titanic Days, Brainstorm comes drenched in exuberant Latin rhythms, vividly coloured accompaniments and Hispanic samples. It's quite a departure for one of our most gifted singer-songwriters and a long flight away from the realities of life in later-eighties Britain that 1989's Kite (her masterpiece) was about.
Despite the vibrant and sometimes wildly colourful setting, MacColl's observations are no less penetrating and there are moments when her sense of humour is even funnier, such as her opting for comfort over passion of In These Shoes: 'He said "Let's make love on a mountain top, under the stars on a big hard rock, I said "in these shoes?" Her fling with a pornographer over the net (Here Comes That Man Again) is certainly different and almost distasteful (I'll spare you the quote on this one) whilst England 2, Columbia 0 has her bitterly slagging off her lying (married with kids etc) holiday love during the '98 World Cup and knowing 'just how those Columbians feel.'
Joie de vivre (or should I say Mi Vida Loca?) simply explodes out of Alegría with its 'happiness and joy' leading into one of MacColl's most exhilarating excursions into her distinctive hybrid of Anglo-Hispania. You simply have to dance around your room to Us Amazonians, kicked off by Pete Glenister's infectious guitar, where she loves her independence (she has split with her husband producer Steve Lilywhite incidentally): 'Us Amazonians know where we stand, we got kids, we got jobs, why do we need a man?' Only for 'something to hold in the forest at night.' A real winner is this one. So too the portrait of Celestine, a sluttish alter ego of 'so many men, so many fights,so many parties and late nights.'
The most reflective moments are the least Latin, and Wrong Again (where her voice almost falters with the hurt) and Designer Life are familiar MacColl territory, akin to a hung-over return from the holiday she's just been on. Her Autumn Girl (Autumngirlsoup) is as clever as it is explicitly venereal: 'Take my mind, marinate it in red wine, Grate my thighs with your chinny chin chin, And I will let you in.' More double-entendre than metaphor, naughty but nice, her voice seems to be sounding a good deal purer (certainly more than her thoughts) and more emotional than ever before.
No doubt some will insist MacColl has simply jumped on the Latino bandwagon- that would be a misjudgement as she has flirted with the genre before (remember My Affair almost ten years ago?). However, the fusion of eloquent pop with salsas and sambas, flavoured with sangrias and lit by sunsets, and mixed with MacColl's unmistakable irony, make for one of the most compelling albums this year.
Darren Lee (Editor)
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