Not since Portishead's Dummy, or perhaps Tricky's Maxinquaye, has there been an album quite as dark and seductive sounding. Since the release of their last effort, Protection, the "trip-hop" movement that their debut release Blue Lines, helped spawn, has grown in leaps and bounds. While some groups have managed to come across as un-clone-like, others have simply picked up on the fad and chunked out albums without much style or substance. And substance is definitely one of the things that Mezzanine isn't lacking at all.
From the first few seconds of the album, the listener gets a feeling of things to come. A heavy bass rumble pulses for a few moments before a thick beat drops and echoes, and Horace Andy starts singing. After the first verse, another beat lays on top of the original and some guitar textures are added. The title of the song is "Angel," but it sounds more like it has fallen. The rest of the disc continues along this route, every songs moves through a quagmire of sounds and even with vocals from Elizabeth Frazier (Cocteau Twins), never seems to sound very light. Throw this disc in the CD player, find someone you like, and get out the whipped cream, the chocolate syrup, the honey, or all of the above. Mood lighting optional. Seriously, though, one of the best releases thusfar in 1998. (www.almostcool.org)
Bristol, England must be the godforsaken armpit of the world-- the Gary, Indiana of the United Kingdom. Smokestacks spit sulfur-scented black skies. Paupers with the croup rummage through rubble. Thunder is constant. Prozac is in short supply. The water tastes like tinfoil. "Salad" means "weeds with mustard." Dewy sheets of plastic flap in the shot-out windows of abandoned factories. This is merely speculation, but also a logical conclusion based on Bristol's wonderfully gloomy bands-- especially Massive Attack.
A soundtrack for nightmares, you might turn to Mezzanine if you find fellow Bristol residents Portishead and Tricky a bit too peppy. "Dark," as an adjective, doesn't befit these guys. "Light-absorbing" is more like it. Whatever you want to call it, Mezzanine crushes trip-hop's past with a grimy piston. Undulating, subterranean bass, crisp, skittering percussion, and guitars that prickle hair tie up your eardrums and make them beg for more. The vocals alternate from ironically angelic female guests to the sexy, demonic, masculine throats of the Massive Attack trio, inventing a kind of freight elevator music from the post-apocalypse-- hypnotizing, beautiful and menacing.
Actors claim that playing the bad guy is more delicious. And how many times have you found yourself rooting for the bad guy over the whiny hero? Massive Attack have the envious role of baddest, coolest band out there. Not quite electronic, not quite rock, and certainly not trip-hop (not anymore, at least), Massive Attack have welded a pre-millennial sound of their own, filled with paradox, that conjures images of organic machinery and ugly grace. (www.pitchforkmedia.com)
Mmmmmmmmm, Dilaudid for the ears.... Winsome, slow and low beats, spectral vocals and a spooky vibe are what make Mezzanine so damn plush. I've never been much of a Massive Attack fan, truth be known (1991's Blue Line seemed over-hyped to me), but Mezzanine has made me a believer. Hallefreakinlujah!
From the pulsating bass intro of "Angel" to soulful sweep of "(Exchange)" at the very end of the album, you won't be disappointed or bored but once. And though you've probably heard music like this before (former Massive Attacker Tricky comes to mind), trust me, because this album is done so well, you won't mind hearing it again. It's creepy and beautiful in the worst (read: best) ways.
There's an Oriental flavour woven into the album. Listen closely to the vocals in "Teardrop" and you could imagine the lyrics being delivered in Mandarin without missing a beat. And check out the hypnotic Indo-beat in "Inertia Creeps." This isn't a dance album. This is a contemplative, deliberate attempt to hijack your brain waves. Chances are you won't be able to put up much of a struggle.
So just light some candles, treat yourself to some absinthe and pop in Mezzanine. Don't worry, you won't be gone long -- the album is only 63 minutes long. (www.dropd.com)