Dido - Life For Rent

Arista: 2003

Dido already had a decent run of solo success by the year 2000. Even in an overstuffed '90s market of lady singer-songwriters, she managed a couple minor hits, not to mention an association with her big brother's super-mega popular club band Faithless didn't hurt her prospects either. Then her career went meteoric when Eminem sampled the charming ditty Thank You for an all-time classic cut in Stan. Not only did it break Dido to an entirely untapped young American demographic, but their moms too, who couldn't stand that potty-mouthed rapper but constantly inquired their sons about that one track with the catchy chorus. No joke, I had middle-aged women coming in my music shop buying The Marshall Mathers LP just for that Dido chorus alone. Fortunately for them, we soon 'found' a whole album of Dido music for them to enjoy, without all those gay-bashing, pop-celebrity slamming, girlfriend-murdering antics.

So No Angel went on to be a platinum-selling album in many countries, which naturally left expectations for her follow-up album sky-high. She smashed it, Life For Rent hitting the number one spot in several countries, lead single White Flag her best selling song by a mile (well, technically Stan is, but y'know). Honestly though, I think Ms. Florian Cloud de Bounevialle O'Malley Armstrong lucked out a little, filling in the lady singer-songwriter gap that had emerged after many Lilith Fair alum had significantly retreated from the spotlight by 2003. There was still a market for light, folksy brunch-pop, just not as large as before. Might as well indulge in that UK lass who did the Thank You song – that White Flag is catchy enough, so the rest of Life For Rent should be just as good.

While I've enjoyed her contributions to Faithless tunes and whatever other projects her bro' Rollo's up to, I've only taken a passive interest in Dido's solo music. Maybe it's just how overplayed her hit singles ended up (dear Lord, was White Flag ever abused through the mid-'00s!), but I never felt the need to dig further into her album material. That said, I cannot deny some curiosity in how Rollo's production would translate into the folk-pop arena. The chap's always had a flair for the dramatic, but was equally capable of dialing things back for proper chill moments too. And there's plenty of examples of his touch in Life For Rent.

Yes, Dido's lyrics and guest guitarists generally take centre-stage (including Rick Nowels, Adam Zimmon, and Dave Randall). Scope out those dubby Balearic touches in Stoned though! Or the gentle, sweeping pads in See You When You're 40. Or the cavernous sonic depth in the mini-breakdown in Do You Have A Little Time. Or the trip-hop flourishes in Who Makes You Feel. Sand In My Shoes even has a minor, clubby build, though that's likely Sister Bliss' additional production at play. I know these aren't the things I'm supposed to focus on in a Dido album, but old habits, y'know?

Dusted - When We Were Young

Nettwerk: 2000/2001

It's criminal the amount of folks who overlook this album. No, I've empirical evidence backing this up, barely four-hundred copies owned by denizens of Discogs. By comparison, over twenty-seven hundred Discogians have some version of Outrospective from Faithless, Rollo's main super-famous popular project. But I get it: despite the glowing critical praise Dusted earned with this debut, few knew what to make of it. It didn't help ol' Roland isn't much of an attention hound, always hiding in the producer's cubby while others reap the glory from his efforts (Sister Bliss, Maxi Jazz, Dido), to say nothing of Mark Bates' contributions here. There was little media promoting it too, just a Deep Dish remix and a rather crap CGI video supporting the lead single Always Remember To Respect Your Mother. And while the artwork is an obvious homage to Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are, it's not the sort of style your average punter is gonna' find themselves drawn too. Nay, wait until they're at mid-life, and reflections on childhood innocence while tending to a child yourself becomes far more poignant.

That, in a nutshell, is likely why When We Were Young failed to gain 'classic album status' despite all the musical muscle supporting such an honour: its audience was just too niche. Still, folks weaned on copious amounts of Faithless should vibe on the opening few tracks. Childhood sets the stage in a dreamy morning-after bliss as many of Rollo's best chilled-out instrumental pieces so often do, while follow-up Time Takes Time goes for more of a soul-fusion slant. Want U and Hurt U tread into trip-hop territory, with a growing sense of youthful uncertainty and anxiety coming to grips with experiencing such emotions for the first time. Capping this stretch off with the creepy If You Go Down To The Woods, as though you're lost and alone in an unknown world, and you're more than ready to accept the loving, tender embrace of Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 1, Dido's operatic vocals carrying you to places safe and warm again.

And that's just the first half of this brilliant album!

From there, When We Were Young grows more mature sounding, soulful croons from Luke Garwood mostly leading the way. There's further dalliances into trip-hop (Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 2, Winter), cheeky weirdness for a 'lawf' (The Oscar Song), gospel exuberance (The Biggest Fool In The World, Under The Sun), and folksy reflection (Oh, How Sweet, If I Had A Child). And yeah, these are just broad genre descriptors, as Rollo and Bates never settle into any one tidy style, fusing everything into a sound that's unmistakably theirs. I mean, you've heard it before, during the downtime in most Faithless records.

When We Were Young is essentially the mellow-chill creativity of Rollo unleashed – no need of adhering to club anthems or Maxi Jazz lyrics here, my friends. If that isn't enough of a selling point of this album, I don't know is.

Pet Shop Boys - Disco 2

EMI Records: 1994

The whole of Pet Shop Boys’ discography seldom struck my fancy, but I cannot deny they’re responsible for some of the all-time greatest synth-pop hooks in existence. So seeing this little CD sitting in a used shop, my interest was certainly drawn - all the wonderful choruses of the Boys, given the remix treatment by some of the best in the early 90s business. “Like who?” asks you. “Like these,” says me. Rollo! Jam & Spoon! Junior Vasquez! David Morales! Farley & Heller! Coconut 1! Wait, who? Oh never mind. This should be good fun, right? Right!? Haha …ha!

The idea for Disco 2 was fine. Euro-dance was at its club culture peak, and the Pet Shop Boys had long enjoyed a comfortable relationship with DJs rinsing out remixes of their hits. It only made sense to try re-capturing the creative spark that made the first Disco album a success. The difference with that one, however, was it was more tightly controlled, with less remixers - not to mention dance music wasn’t quite so diverse in ’86. Even someone with passing familiarity with early 90s dance should realize quite a gulf had emerged between American house and euro trance. The Pet Shop Boys may have tied everything together, but the disparity between all these remixes is wide indeed.

That’s not such a big deal though. Plenty of remix albums are like that, and they’ve never- Wait, this is a DJ set too? Oh my… that can’t be good, can it? Danny Rampling was assigned the thankless task and does what he can with the material provided, but this mix is a mess. Ugly crossfade slams, tracks that abruptly end, and a bizarre arrangement hobble Disco 2’s package.

Most of these cuts were singles from the ‘93 album Very. The house remixes are a fine way to start, with Go West’s rub standing out from the pack. E Smoove, however, practically destroys Liberation, sounding like any ol’ Strictly Rhythm release rather than a Pet Shop Boys single. Vasquez and Jam & Spoon do serviceable remixes of Yesterday, but you’ve heard better from them too.

The only real highlight is Rollo and Rob Dougan’s remix of Absolutely Fabulous, probably intended as the highlight since the silly outfits the Boys wore for the video is featured on Disco 2’s cover. The original was a one-off charity single tied to a British sitcom of the same name, relegating this remix’s appearance here as the only ‘album’ exposure it got. It’s gloriously over-the-top and something of a precursor to the club anthems Rollo would be churning out with Faithless shortly after. I mean, that twitchy hook! It’s… it’s… absolutely fabulous! Perfect ‘reach for the lasers’ material.

Does Absolutely Fabulous make Disco 2 worth the price of admission? Hell no, as it’s horribly botched within the mix, abruptly cut out near the final peak. Get that as a single instead. In fact, get all of these tracks as singles if you can. This CD’s a turkey.