And Now- Bob Geldof - Album Review

Vegetarians of Love
Written and submitted
by Corinna Wodrich, April 2002

Trying to review an album which is not at all new to me...

Two hours ago I switched on the computer, intending to write something about one of Bob's older albums, when the phone rang. As weird things tend to happen, it was Claudia, one of the original Hamburg 4, who I had not spoken to in ages. I had expected to meet her at Bob's recent Hamburg gig, but she never came. Now she called, wanting to know if I had been there and asking me to tell her something about the gig. Isn't that strange?

Well, this is not really what I meant to tell you but I just couldn't help letting you know about this most weird coincidence.

So right now I'll press the play button on my stereo and then let's see what comes to my mind when I listen to the songs once again…

Song No. 1 is called The Gospel Song.

Knowing what is to come on this album, this song now feels a bit like an introduction into the new style of music Bob is following on this album. Remember, the album before this was Deep In The Heart Of Nowhere, an album which - according to Bob himself - was a bit of a compromise between continuing with what the Boomtown Rats had been doing up until then and trying to find a new place for himself (as a solo artist).

The Gospel Know introduces all the musicians and all the instruments of this album. It's a slow song, very calm and gentle. Not quite the opener that makes you dive across the room, thinking something like, "Wow, I haven't heard this album in ages! Thank God I found it today, it's fantastic!" More like, "OK, that's a nice song. Let's see what is following…"

And following is… Love Or Something! And this song definitely picks you up and transports you right into the middle of modern Irish - and I mean Irish! - pop music. Lots of violin, accordion, the perfect beat to dance to. A very cheery love song, I guess.

One thing that I think is quite interesting is the one lyrical (unintentional?) reference to Rat Trap. Both songs have a middle-eight section (don't quite know if that's the right musical term, maybe it's simply called a break or something…) in which the lyrics revolve about walking and talking:

Rat Trap: It tells you walk - don't walk - walk - don't walk
Talk - don't talk - talk - don't talk…

Love Or Something: She drifts away (talk, talk, baby whaddya say
She walks away (walk, walk baby why don't you stay)

I wouldn't know what those two songs have in common, except for being written by the same musical genius, but nonetheless I noticed. Did you?

Apart from that I just love listening to Bob speaking French at the end of the song. It sounds a great mix of funny and sexy, I think!

The Great Song Of Indifference is next. For those who don't know the story of this song, as far as I know the band where just playing around in the studio when one or all of them came up with this catchy, diddly melody. At that time there were no lyrics to the song whatsoever and Bob just sang what came to his mind on the spur of the moment. "Are we rolling?" Yes, the tape machine is rolling, so here we go. Take it slow, to begin with but make sure the song builds itself up and up and up. And as soon as accordion and violin kick in, we got them all square dancing! (Even I'm stumping my feet, writing this now!)

This song is so very Irish, it sounds like it must been around for ages. When I first heard it, I think I was convinced that this was the cover version of a traditional Irish folk song. Listening to the lyrics, I thought,

"Nah, maybe it's not… I don't mind if the Third World fries, it's hotter there, I'm not surprised. Baby I can what whole nations die and I don't mind at all… " Not quite what starving Ireland in the late 1800s was concerned about…

So maybe an old tune with new lyrics? Neither. As it turned out The Great Song Of Indifference is (was in 1990!) a brand new song that just blended in perfectly with anything Irish.

I love the way the band cracks up laughing at the end of the song. It really brings across the spirit and mood the band must have been in, in that particular day in the studio.

As Bob told us on his recent tour this whole album was recorded in a couple of weeks. After putting out Deep In The Heart Of Nowhere he wanted a total change. He hired a number musician he'd never met before and book a cheap studio for two weeks, entering the studio with not much of a concept. "If the project failed I wasn't wasting much money, because the studio was cheap and the time we spent there was limited. If the project worked out: Great! The album would still be cheap but good, too," Bob said. I'm sure he must have been very satisfied with the outcome of this session.

Next on the album is Thinking Voyager 2 Type Things.

Isn't that a great title for a song? Just about anything could be lurking behind a title like that. I'm much too young to really know what Voyager 2 was about and I must admit that I don't know who Brendan Behan was either, so to me a title like that is like an unopened book.

And in a way - so is the song. A simple melody, repeating itself over and over again, lulling, meditative, trance-y almost.

This is the breath - this is the kiss - this is the moment that we come alive.

To me the song is like waking up on a lazy Sunday morning, slowly crossing the line from dream to reality, always slipping back into slumber-land, feeling very happy, content and at easy with the day that lies ahead.

Big Romantic Stuff on the other side is like a little later on that same Sunday. Breakfast eaten, kitchen cleaned, the sun is just coming round this side of the house and I might be thinking about what to do and where to go on a day like today. (You did not expect me to write anything but a totally subjective review, did you?!)

The song's got this gentle swing that just makes me think, "Well, after all, isn't this world quite beautiful?!" She'll never give it up - She's gonna hold on to that Big Romantic Stuff… And accordions and violins take her back in time - When the only explanation was a kiss and love and life…

I wouldn't be surprised if Crucified Me is another song that just happened. The whole song is based around Bob playing the guitar - and he does it very well indeed - singing most intensively.

As long as I know (of) Bob, his lyrics have always been a mystery to me. I can call myself luck to know some of the stories behind some of the songs but often I don't really understand what he's going on about.

A while ago I was reading Nick Cave's book And The Ass Saw The Angle. I hated the story because it was so gross and gory but I adored the style the book was written in. I read somewhere that Nick Cave spent ages writing this book. He was in Berlin at that time, squatting with a friend. His bed was on a kind of loft and while writing this book, he dragged a lorry-load of reference books up there. He spent ages in archives and libraries, collecting ancient dictionaries and anything that would include words not used in today's English.

Consequently I never understood what I was reading, but the sound of those words was so beautiful, I eventually started reading the book to myself aloud. I read the whole book aloud to myself and adored it, not really minding anymore if what I was reading made any sense or not. I just wanted to hear the sound of the words. [For those of you interested in this, I've quoted my favourite paragraph from this book at the bottom of this page.]

Bob's lyrics sometimes do the same to me. I'm sure I could work out the contents to some of the songs, but… does it really matter? Aren't the words to a song sometimes merely like another instrument, another facet to a musical concept? Decide for yourselves…

The Chains Of Pain never meant much to me. The song's too clean. There's nothing special about it. A nice melody, some nice ideas… but at the end of the day, nothing but nice. To me this song is what is called an album track, a song to either fill a CD which isn't quite long enough otherwise or a song to build a bridge that makes it easy to take you from one major song to another.

The lyrics to the song are rather political but when trying to bring across a strong point of view, I think, the song should be a little stronger, too.

A Rose At Night and No Small Wonder are the slow and gentle couple of songs on the album. Very relaxing, songs to lean back to and enjoy.

A Rose At Night being a sad love song, while No Small Wonder tells the story of any-old-day-in-the-life-of-Bob-Geldof. The lyrics to No Small Wonder are great:

So I walk over to Battersea Park
Down by the Sri Chimnoy Mile
Past the Peace Pagoda
It's good
You can have a personal religious experience
And get healthy at the same time
Which obviously is important for a busy man like me
…
I set the alarm clock ready for another day at work
Another day in life's great adventure
It's no small wonder

I think this is a song that everybody must be able to relate to. Haven't we all got our own little routines which might mean nothing but - as a whole - make up ourselves and our lives and everything that we are and stand for? My local might not be the Fulham ABC but the Elbe-Wochenblatt but at the end of the day, they are the same, aren't they?

Talking of one's "local", Walking Back To Happiness must be Dun Laoghaire's local. The song tells the story of Bob and his Dad taking long walks up and down the East Pear of Dun Laoghaire's harbour, this being the chance for them to really talk. It doesn't really matter if you've ever been to Dun Laoghaire and have seen this pear or not, I'm sure everybody's got a place like this. A refuge that you always return to, in order to talk to someone at length and in depth or simply to have the time to let you mind flow and follow you own thoughts.

And this is just what this song does. It goes on forever, takes you along for a long, long walk, gives you time to let you mind drift off, think about things, dream about dreams, or think about dreams and dream about things….

Where do they go? - Eastward Ho

Let It Go is a bit of a reminder of all the songs you've just heard on the album. It's reminding you of the strong Irish roots, audible throughout the whole album and the cheery, easy-going attitude of most of the songs.

A song that gives all those great musicians - who I hardly mentioned in this strange review - the chance to let themselves go and play for the sheer pleasure of playing. Still, I wouldn't mind if the song was a bit faster - to my ears it's somehow dragging it's feet a little…

Last but not least it's The End Of The World.

A very "small" song to close the CD - just Bob playing guitar and singing. But with some remarkable backing vocals. Sadly the booklet of this CD does not tell you who's playing / singing on which song but in the whole list there's only two people who've been singing backing vocals: Rupert Hine (the producer) and Kevin Godley (of Godley & Crème).

Listening to the backing vocals of this song, I'm sure it must be Rupert Hine… but then again… Bob once told me a rather astonishing story about Kevin Godley's visit to his dentist - maybe the song was recorded just minutes later? Whoever it is who's singing here - it's fab!

How absurd to write a song about the end of the world, when no-one know what it's going to be like…

But one thing for sure: It is going to be absurd!

Written and submitted
by Corinna Wodrich, April 2002

There in the very blood of the air ah could sense the most hell-born forecast, hear the murky rhymes beneath its breath-bombinations, hexes and muttered spells - hear the beat of its breath - the first tremors, distant and faint, but coming, coming - feel its plodding pulse, now fuller still, its pounding! This special evil - Coming! Drumming! - and this special air tense to receive it.

Taken from: Nick Cave: And The Ass Saw The Angel - © 1989