Colin Blundstone: Say You Don't Mind
I find this record spooky. It is deeply nostalgic for me, and evocative of a certain time. You will understand why the nostalgia makes the record quite frightening, when I tell you that I was given it when entering puberty.
In fact, it's a very cheesy record, a one-hit-wonder of a love ballad, but a ballad that almost manages to achieve a dizzy melancholy. So it's quite sophisticated, really. But again, I think the feeling of melancholy was mostly to do with my age, and how emotions tend to run away with themselves during puberty. I remember that I would be nearly in tears, and not know why.
It is always the melodies that really affect me, rather than the lyrics. And seeing as I had no concept of relationships at the time, I am sure I wasn't listening to the meaning.
Its influence is in there somewhere, like an albatross around my neck. This song is responsible for all my cheesy, melancholic leanings.
This is a great example of trying something different. It's really dark, with a lot of deep bass, and what I like to call disintegrated funk. This is less high energy than Seventies funk, and more a reinvention of the traditional soulful funk. It's very Nineties funk.
It is also quite industrial and dirty. The ideal millennium party tune! The sound is dismembered - broken down into parts - and it jerks through many different genres throughout the record: a bit of house, some slower tempo music, and hip-hop. But, most important, it uses other music styles without being retrospective.
As a musician I find this experimentation is very appealing, and in a way it is what makes me play it, to experience new influences. It's a really modern look at how to be funky.