Portishead, Third
May 29th 2008 01:07
"Silence" creeps into my ears with a distorted rat a tat tat. An intoxicating wave of strings, squeaks and a steady riff melt me down into submission and this is where I will stay until the last raging horn of "Threads" moves through me like a chill in a dark room.
Third, need I say it, is the third album for trip-hop band Portishead and like so many other fans, I have endured the ten agonising years it has been since Portishead first silenced themselves.
After a ten year wait, it is fair to say high expectations have been place upon this album.
It is also fair to say that through this long wait, I have allowed my imagination to roam with wonderment, dreaming of just what this album might sound like. My imagination can at times be like that of a child, lulling me into magical places, and yet not even my imagination could pull me to the places I have now been since listening to Third.
Third is many things. It is dark, sexy, haunting, sickening. It is not, however, anything like the bands first and unforgettable album, Dummy; an album that was the soundtrack for so many indy kids growing up in the 90's.
Like professional chess players, Portishead have made a brave and courageous move to stray from their king (the sound of Dummy); a move that has shown the world that this is a band that means something, and will always mean something.
Gibbons voice is the only familiar thing about this album. She wails and whispers her way through each track like a dark spirit, crying out her agonies to the raging skies.
Her voice has always had some what of an effect on her audience and, though fairly monotone, it seems to wrench at the heart and leave us bruised and sore like submissive lovers.
There isn't one track on the album that falls below the mark. Each affects the body and mind in its own way. "Machine Gun" punctures through the chest and tears through the veins like a shot of adrenalin. "The Rip" warms and overwhelms, capturing us first with a folk like sound and then growing into something that makes me feel somewhat nostalgic, although I'm not quite sure for what.
Overall, the album is one that should, and most likely will go down in history.
It may not be trip-hop; in fact, I believe it steers closer to dark electro-punk. But whatever it is, I like it, and I thank Portishead for giving birth to such a sad beauty.
Third, need I say it, is the third album for trip-hop band Portishead and like so many other fans, I have endured the ten agonising years it has been since Portishead first silenced themselves.
It is also fair to say that through this long wait, I have allowed my imagination to roam with wonderment, dreaming of just what this album might sound like. My imagination can at times be like that of a child, lulling me into magical places, and yet not even my imagination could pull me to the places I have now been since listening to Third.
Third is many things. It is dark, sexy, haunting, sickening. It is not, however, anything like the bands first and unforgettable album, Dummy; an album that was the soundtrack for so many indy kids growing up in the 90's.
Like professional chess players, Portishead have made a brave and courageous move to stray from their king (the sound of Dummy); a move that has shown the world that this is a band that means something, and will always mean something.
Gibbons voice is the only familiar thing about this album. She wails and whispers her way through each track like a dark spirit, crying out her agonies to the raging skies.
There isn't one track on the album that falls below the mark. Each affects the body and mind in its own way. "Machine Gun" punctures through the chest and tears through the veins like a shot of adrenalin. "The Rip" warms and overwhelms, capturing us first with a folk like sound and then growing into something that makes me feel somewhat nostalgic, although I'm not quite sure for what.
Overall, the album is one that should, and most likely will go down in history.
It may not be trip-hop; in fact, I believe it steers closer to dark electro-punk. But whatever it is, I like it, and I thank Portishead for giving birth to such a sad beauty.
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Comment by Anonymous
Wow, what a great review!