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A3 - Exile on Coldharbour Lane
Music CD CoverArtist: A3 Edition: Music CD Format: Import CD Release Date: 2005-10-24 Music Label: One Little Indian Soundtracks: - Converted
- Speed of the Sound of Loneliness
- Woke up This Morning
- U Don't Dans 2 Tekno Anymore
- Bourgeoisie Blues
- Ain't Goin' to Goa
- Mao Tse Tung Said
- Hypo Full of Love [The 12-Step Plan]
- Old Purple Tin [9% of Pure Heaven]
- Night We Nearly Got Busted
- Sister Rosetta
- Peace in the Valley
Free Music Notes for Exile on Coldharbour LaneFree Music Review: Vibrant, fun, and occasionally gripping techno-country fusion. Hit: 4 StarsExile On Coldharbour Lane is one of the more interesting electronic albums of the nineties. It builds on a simple idea, that of combining acid-house electronica with American-style country music. The idea itself was not entirely original -- Underworld, Primal Scream and the KLF already used some elements of blues, folk and gospel. But those were mostly disparate elements, pasted into a very modern style. A3 did the opposite, using 808 drum machines and acid-style synthesizers, but attempting to evoke (and parody) the spirit of country music.
As part of the act, the band portrayed itself as an exaggerated fundamentalist sect. The album has two vocalists, the megalomaniacal, nasal sect leader "Reverend D. Wayne Love," and his warmer, more soulful husky-voiced parishioner "Larry Love," both with overblown Southern accents. They contrast with each other very well. Larry Love has the lead most of the time, and sings with a restrained conviction that really breathes life into the ridiculous premise. But D. Wayne's arrogant drawl is always entertaining, and charismatic in its own way. And they interact with each other in little skits at the beginning of many tracks.
Of course, the act is an obvious parody. The fundamentalist personas come in for mockery in "Hypo Full Of Love," in which D. Wayne demands that his listeners give him all their money, and more. But at the same time, this image is often used by the album to criticize the techno scene and the club lifestyle. "You Don't Dance To Techno Anymore" tells a sad, sad story about raver girls who overdose on drugs, or sit "in your broken basement room, staring at the wall, sharing your score with no one." The rhythm is provided by a pulsing 808 beat, but the lead instruments are acoustic guitar and harmonica. And then, in "Ain't Going To Goa," Larry Love swears off clubs forever, while D. Wayne preaches, "There ain't nothing worse than some fool lying on some Third World beach wearing spandex psychedelic trousers, smoking damn dope, and pretending he gettin' consciousness expansion. I want consciousness expansion, I go to my local tabernacle and I sing with the brothers and sisters!" Compared to the bleary-eyed ravers and sleazy businessmen ("Bourgeoisie Blues") portrayed throughout the album, A3's depiction of religion looks pretty good -- opening track "Converted" explodes with a jubilant gospel chorus singing, "Let's go back to church."
The band shows considerable dramatic skill. The album version of "Woke Up This Morning," the band's biggest hit (later used as the theme song to The Sopranos), starts with an extended intro in which D. Wayne muses about his "feeling of brief mortality" and reflects on the greatness of jazz music. The dull thump of the beat comes in halfway through his monologue, building up anticipation for the song before it starts. When it does start, it builds up very gradually -- Larry Love's quiet voice is tinged with both menace and something like sympathy for the song's protagonist, and later D. Wayne comes on again with an angry, blustering verse.
The fundamentalist get-up also allows for some terrific apocalyptic metaphors and imagery. The absolute best song on the album is "Sister Rosetta," which is surprisingly poetic, in the way of certain half-religious, half-outlaw blues songs -- "I looked for the light in the words of St. Matthew / Took heed of his call to come and congregate / I got me a ticket for that sweet gospel train / But Lord, I got to the station a moment too late." The chorus is a rousing guitar line. And "The Night We Nearly Got Busted" is pure outlaw country (albeit with beeping keyboards), a story about robbing a mansion while reminding the listener that "it was the Lord who set us free." There's even a slightly technoed-up cover of John Prine's "Speed Of The Sound Of Loneliness." Not only is it excellent, but it makes a perfect fit with A3's own lyrical style.
Of course, the band's fervour is completely artificial, but hey, actual country music is a simulacrum anyway. The parody of country music is ridiculous, but affectionate. If the album has a weakness, in my view, it's that it leans a bit too much on the fiddle-and-harmonica side (especially with the gospel chorus of "Hypo Full Of Love" immediately followed by the weepy ballad "The Old Purple Tin") and not enough on the techno side. Furthermore, the techno elements are mostly limited to drum machines and incidental keyboards. I'd have liked to see a denser production with more samples, like the background in the intro of "Converted," or a good dark techno rave-up similar in spirit to "The Night We Nearly Got Busted." Some editions of the album come with a bonus disc of techno remixes, but there's not that much danceable material, and it feels like "Converted" and "Woke Up This Morning" tie up the techno side of things between them. I also think some of the skits on the second side drag a bit -- "Hypo Full Of Love" is funny, but overlong, and "Peace In The Valley" has some oddly-placed cheap angst. "Sister Rosetta" really strengthens the second side, though.
Perhaps the reason why the band never really became successful (aside from the lucky Sopranos break) is because they didn't pander enough to either of their possible audiences. Clubgoers might be annoyed by the album's sarcastic depiction of their lifestyle, and bored by the lack of more sophisticated techno elements. Country fans, on the other hand, might dislike the overblown ridiculousness of the band's image, not to mention the one bizarre song about Mao Tse-tung, and they wouldn't get the techno references. And also, perhaps the ideas fueling the album weren't deep enough to sustain an entire career. Whatever the reason, after their debut, A3 sank into obscurity. But, as an unusual and creative application of techno, Exile On Coldharbour Lane is worth owning.
Exile on Coldharbour Lane PosterThis London exponent of "sweet, pretty country-acid house music"--formerly Alabama 3, until someone remembered the similarly named country-pop group--makes its hybrid work on this debut album. In fact, Exile on Coldharbour Lane sounds like the record U2 wanted Pop to be. Fronted by one Reverend Dr. D. Wayne Love, A3 prove their seriousness about roots music with a mournful version of John Prine's "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness" while sprinkling the rest of the disc with blues harp and acoustic guitars. Dr. Love's schtick is a bit silly, but his commitment to saying something about the utopian rave culture's potential for waste is obvious in songs like "You Don't Dance to Techno Anymore"--in which a DJ watches a girl overdose in front of his booth. --Rickey Wright
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