A war to fight

I won't hesitate to name "Dummy" as one of the greatest albums ever made. Its beauty is elusive - dehumanized throbbings of electronics and agonized, slightly off-key vocals constitute most of the songs. But there's a philosophical depth to it, a dreamy level of thought and emotion that moves the album way beyond typical mainstream electronica.

I remember sitting in front of the television back in 1994, watching the video for "Sour Times" on MTV. It frankly bored me to tears - there was this woman wailing, "Nobody loves me, it's true..." over and over - what was the point? When I finally got the album in January, I was still rather disenchanted by this song - it's really rather repetitive, just not that great (though not that bad either!). And though not every song on this album is perfect, many feature moments of great brilliance and drama that move them into the upper tiers of - well, music, period! Nowhere else will you see such lyrics, or hear such production.

The band consists of Beth Gibbons (singer/songwriter), Geoff Barrow (producer), and Adrian Utley (guitarist). Their spokesman is Barrow; he gives all the interviews and so forth. "Dummy" was Portishead's debut; they've followed it up with a self-titled album, a live album, and "Glory Times", the singles for "Sour Times" and "Glory Box" mashed together. Though none of these following releases are as good as "Dummy" (their second best is probably "Live NYC")

What makes their music so unique is its combination of humanity and electronics. Beth Gibbons intones, whispers, wails with aplomb; sometimes she falls into a seductive "come hither" style; other times she sounds half a second away from slashing her wrists. There's no insincere postmodern trickery here - all of her agonized wailing is true to life. Yet the combination of her all-too-human singing with the samples, scratching, and electronic pulses that Barrows lays down makes the music exquisitely human.

The album begins, strangely, with one of its weaker tracks: "Mysterons" is repetitive, though by its end it achieves a not-unattractive hypnotic tone. The lyrics are quite enigmatic - apparently, the song is based on an old British children's television program, which is admittedly an obscure source. But it's not annoying, and I never really feel compelled to skip past it.

Then comes "Sour Times", the band's biggest hit to date. It's a dramatic song, consisting of a wall of pulsing sound, complete with withering horns, a weird little rattling noise, and heavy, slow drums. Gibbons delivers the evocative lyrics with ease:

To pretend no one can find the fallacies of morning rose
Forbidden fruit, hidden eyes - courtesies that I despise in me
Take a ride, take a shot now
'Cause nobody loves me, it's true -
Not like you do

Agony hangs in her delivery of the inevitable chorus, yet she switches back and forth with ease from the emotion of the chorus, to the quick declaiming of the other lyrics, to the slightly-cutesy interlude she launches into at one point.

"Strangers" is in my three-favorite songs from the album. It begins with an odd, distant whistling noise, which immediately fades into an insistent curtain of noise, shimmering with synthesized tones and descending guitar noise, for lack of a better description. It irritates me that I can't really sum up these songs in descriptions that don't sound trite or banal, but that's why this album is so unique. As much as I hate this expression, "If you have to ask, you'll never know". Anyway, the singing begins, as Gibbons repeats over and over, "Done it warning / Done it now / This ain't real". The song occasionally breaks down into clever little interludes of jazzy instrumental noodling, which are immediately swamped again by the driving electronic noise.

Next, "It Could Be Sweet". An unvarying drum track, with low synthesized tones underneath it. Gibbons moans, "'Cause I don't wanna lose what we had last time / Your leaving this life ain't fair / You don't get something for nothing, turn back / Gotta try a little harder". The following song is rather unpleasant, but compelling - "Wandering Stars". A throbbing monotonous note and distant drums play, as Gibbons quotes the Bible for the chorus.

It all begins to shift at the halfway mark. On "It's a Fire", a sudden wash of dramatic strings greets us, and flows into a quiet, almost-hymnlike backing to Gibbons's lyrics about martyrdom and misery, which seem to me to obliquely allude to Joan of Arc. (Maybe I'm making a stretch? - anyway, the band sure isn't forthcoming!) The opening of the next song, "Numb" reminds me of Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand", and then all similarities vanish, as it moves into shallow patters of drums, over which Gibbons sings - in a slightly distorted voice, accompanied by creepy organ noises - the song concludes with the words "A lady of war", leading nicely into the next track, another of the best of this album...

"Roads" begins with hushed tones - I think they're a theremin - which by themselves form an eloquent, wordless picture of woe and tragedy. Then the drums kick in, and the lyrics begin, as Gibbons urgently sings "Oh, can't anybody see we've got a war to fight?" As it builds up to its stark climax, more and more instrumentation comes in, including beautiful strings and a reverb-touched guitar tone. I'd almost name this as the best song, were it not for one fast approaching...

"Pedestal" is unforgiving and harsh. Gibbons sounds like a shawoman as she mumbles about "this miracle / Where the wind blows dry / Through the force of a man / Undenied by his eye"...whatever that means, but it sounds good! Moments of turntable scratching signal alternations between the chilly instrumental segments and the lifeless, pounding drums. The penultimate track - "Biscuit" - begins with distant noise, and suddenly lo-fi noise enters the mix, a turbulent blend of clattering drums and low bass. There's certainly some irony in the lyrics, as Gibbons sings, "I can't make myself heard no matter how hard I scream"; after all, having heard her even once or twice, how could you not drop everything and listen the next time her haunting voice begins?

The closer, "Glory Box", is in my humble opinion one of the best songs ever written. It's slightly creepy, definitely enigmatic - not your usual love song (though probably the closest Portishead ever came to writing one). It's got a gorgeous tune - a descending sequence of ethereal notes, which are revived by a quick sort of kickstart on the drums. The tune stayed stuck in my head literally for weeks after I first heard it. Anyway, this simple series of notes continues for several minutes, as Gibbons sings the lyrics, a combination of cool, unemotional spoken-word, and overdriven wailing:

From this time, unchained
We're all looking at a different picture
Through this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over, and give us some room -
Give me a reason to love you!
Give me a reason to be
A woman - I just want to be a woman!

It all goes on, including a lovely and unexpected solo of distorted guitar - and then comes the line "For this is the beginning of forever, and ever!" A crash of drums heralds a weird, exquisite little percussive interlude, and the song fades out the same way it began.

To sum up, this is a sexy, dark, depressing album. Full of irresistible rhythms and strange noise, it'll slide into your consciousness like a cocktail laced with ground glass. It's not for everybody, especially those who want a bit of cheer and redemption mixed into their music (there's really none here!) - yet for those who enjoy unclassifiable music, it's a classic.