There’s something fundamentally anachronistic about Smith & Mudd’s Blue River album. It’s in the use of chorus as an effect, the swirling DX7 synth pads, the white funk bass licks. While the early 80s’ pop world was immersed in the kind of fluoro-trash that is the current stock in trade for the indie scene, ‘serious’ pop musicians were using the kind of sounds revisited by Smith & Mudd. It’s slightly off-putting at first, but it’s the listener’s responsibility to leave fashion based snobbery aside and try to listen to what the music is offering.
In this case, that means acoustic guitar beds, cruising mid-tempo rhythms and a very summery airiness to proceedings. Chordal patterns are established and repeated in a breezy effortlessness. All is recorded with a clarity and smoothness, with the odd woodwind instrument or violin adding timbral variety. There is some nice organic percussion splattered throughout, though an over-reliance on rainsticks and chimetrees can be a little disconcerting. The overriding, dominant feature of the disc, though, is undoubtedly the delay unit. Everything is pulsed through it, from the guitar lines to the cabassa hits, synth leads through to the occasional vocal that appears towards album’s end. It’s a fairly even and uniform collection, though the standout is undoubtedly central track ‘Shulme’ which features a more brooding drum loop and guitar which sounds a little like an ‘Unforgettable Fire’ era U2 out-take. The artists obviously realise its worth as the bonus track is a remix of ‘Shulme’, though the relatively high profile Lexx (who’s recently remixed Bjork amongst others), unfortunately does little more than replace the moody drums with a Madchester-lite rhythm loop.
Ultimately, this is the kind of album that can be put on as background fill. It will pass by without offending anybody, but probably won’t really make any one stop and take particular notice either. Cafe music? I’ll use that term as there’s nothing here to particularly dislike, but nothing to inspire repeated, in-depth listening.
Adrian Elmer
