Think Like A Key 2023
Morgenmusik/Nachtschlager
First taking California, then taking on Berlin: American smith of über-alles tune finally rules the waves.
Despite the fact that his discography spans four decades and around thirty albums, Anton Barbeau’s name somehow escaped attention of most music lovers – even those well-attuned to the oeuvre of his frequent collaborators, including members of XTC and THE BEVIS FROND – but that’s about to change soon, as the issue of this double-titled platter should bring the Californian singer-songwriter to the brink of worldwide recognition. And while the whopping 31 tracks on display may look menacing, seeming to bring in sensory overload, some of them are short interludes that thematically link larger pieces, and they’re varied enough to keep the listener entertained for the entire duration of the dawn-to-dusk program.
Yes, a program transmitted straight into one’s living room, as opener “Waiting On The Radio” suggests rather overtly via Barbeau’s soft voice wrapped around acoustic strum and electric riffs to shape an infectious song bolstered by Colin Moulding’s various ivories and backing vocals. But then the piano-propelled “Bop” introduces a harder texture – as though to contrast its “Maybe we could get along” refrain, a line to recur later – to support prog-rock spaciousness and proper groove which “Beautiful Look” will amplify and further. There’s quite a few arresting stories woven into Anton’s narrative, the reggae ballad “Ganja On The Farm” going for the jugular, and the dramatic “Pull The Veil Away” painting dadaistic pictures, yet there’s a romantic thread too, running through the likes of “Milkshake” which has been given an exquisite flamenco lace, courtesy of Miguel Padilla, or “Gabay D’lito” which rides the profound wave of chamber sorrow. Still, “Mothership Projection” bristles with harmonic funk, and “Chrono Optik” reflects the artist’s fascination with the Berlin School of electronica even more clearly – Barbeau lived in German capital, after all – letting the ebullient dub of “Dumb Thumping” boil and bubble with Jeff Simons’ bass to reveal Anton’s Mellotron amid the sonic assault.
The purer his pop slant is the more irresistible these cuts are, and such scintillating tracks as “Gambit” and “Dog Go Zombie” feel effusive in their humorous sentiments; only the romp of “Greasy” and the polyphony of “Coming Clean” – two differently paced but mutually complementing, albeit deceptively so, compositions – take this effervescence towards psychedelic spectrum. However, if the warmness of “Come Back” whose Buddy-Holly-esque jive offers the kindred spirits a time-warp, the otherwise sweet “Nachtschlager” has a cold orchestral touch to it, whereas the epic finale of “Help Yourself To A Biscuit” unfolds a cosmically mesmeric, new-wave-colored and raga-spiced tapestry. Bright and exhilarating, here’s an album to battle suburban boredom with.
****1/2
