By Todd Lavoie
Supergrass, “Diamond Hoo Ha Man”
Perhaps it’s perfectly fitting that the lads in Supergrass -- cheeky as they’ve always been -- are the ones in the much-ballyhooed Britpop pack having the last laugh after all. Chalk it up to their boyish exuberance, I suppose, or maybe to their steadfast refusal to take themselves too seriously, but the Oxford stompers are now deep into the double-digit years of their career, and still sounding remarkably fresh with each release, while so many of those acts once mentioned in the same breath have either broken up or lost their relevance.
The once-ubiquitous movement, which the British music press essentially heralded as something akin to the second coming of Christ, complete with its share of messianic drama and seething rivalries, had a great run for a while there, beginning around the mid-‘90s and lasting through the turn of the century. Blur, Oasis, Pulp, Suede, Elastica, Sleeper -- they were some of the big-hitters at the center of it all, unapologetically celebrating Britishness, flag-drapery and all, through a spirited revisit of ‘60s Mod culture, punk/post-punk jitters, and New Wave electro-romanticism.
When Supergrass showed up, still in their teens and hardly concealing it, the bright-eyed scruffs seemed like the younger, sillier siblings to the art-school grads of Blur and Pulp. I imagine many folks would’ve never guessed at the time of their breakthrough 1995 single “Alright” (yep, as in “We are young/ we run green/ keep our teeth nice and clean/ see our friends, see the sights/ feel alright” -- recently snagged by Walt Disney world for their feel-good commercials) that the band would still be going strong thirteen years later. Nothing against them, of course, it’s just that bands sticking together for more than a decade are a bit of a rarity.
But here they are, and their recently Brit-released sixth album, Diamond Hoo Ha (Parlophone/EMI) – to be released here 6/10 on Astralwerks -- is a winner. With the demise of Pulp and Elastica and Sleeper and Suede fading further by the day, and in view of Blur’s highly unlikely on-again/off-again reformation rumors and Oasis’s having long since lost the plot, it looks like Supergrass might strike the double-bonus of longevity and sustained relevance. Hmmm, feel alright, indeed.
As the title would suggest, Diamond Hoo Ha is a strutting, striding return to the ebullient, leg-kicking wild abandon which has become the Supergrass signature over the years. Its predecessor, 2005’s pun-loving Road To Rouen, was somewhat of a sore thumb in the band’s catalogue. But what a lovely sore thumb it was, largely back-burnering their familiar three-pots-of-coffee delirium in favor of a richly-textured after-hours atmosphere.
That French getaway (the title a reference to the location of the studio as well as a tribute to The Ramones) worked wonders for the band, inspiring some occasionally breezy, easy-going grooves as well as producing easily the most introspective album of their career. Sadly, some pigeonhole-fixated fans squawked about the change in direction, failing to give a fair chance to such a work of darker ambitions. Road To Rouen was the sound of a band “maturing”--- an inevitability, I’d say, given the fact that they’d first come together twelve years earlier. Still, those seeking a return to the pre-Rouen days will surely cartwheel over the pulsing, surging sugar-rush stylings of Supergrass’ latest.
If its predecessor should be considered a form of therapy or an unleashing of demons, then Diamond Hoo Ha is the rejuvenation which occurs afterwards. Having made it through their dark night of the soul, the guys seem to have brushed themselves off, spiffed themselves up, and headed into town for a spell or two of merry-making. And yes, they sound younger here than they have in quite some time.
The gargantuan fuzz-thump of opening track “Diamond Hoo Ha Man” is a swaggering, sneering announcement of return, boasting dirty garage-blues guitar and some of the most primal pummeling of drummer Danny Goffey’s career. Sound a bit White Stripes-y, perhaps? Well, it is, but the addition of elements of nervy-funk--- particularly with the arrival of Gaz Coombe’s feverish falsetto over jittery guitar--- make this lead-off single far more than a mere send-up of Jack and Meg White’s larger-than-life garage bluster. There’s something rather tantalizing about his unbridled cries of “I’ve gotta get you in my suitcase”--- not sure what might happen next, but I have to say I’m tempted.
Its follow-up, “Bad Blood,” offers similar booming enormity, albeit here with the curious addition of Coombe’s vaguely Iggy Pop vocals (circa Lust For Life/The Idiot) on a few of the song’s twitchier verses before giving way to the fist-pumping assault of the chorus. The disc’s stunning triple-threat concludes with the strident “Rebel In You,” a giddy celebration of the Young and the Spunky powered by rousing shouts of “you’re some kind of fascination/ hands down you’re beautiful.” Anchored by Robert Coombes’ ringing piano and Mick Quinn’s authoritative bass rumbles, enhanced by unison blue-eyed-soul “ooh”s and “aah”s, the song is an older, wiser counterpart to “Alright”, a youth-anthem for those who have gotten a bit longer in the tooth but remain as fabulous as ever.
Diamond Hoo Ha was recorded in Berlin’s legendary Hansa Studios, Ground Zero for some of David Bowie’s and Iggy Pop’s most ambitious recordings, and the choice of locale seems to have made an impact on the band. Whereas Road To Rouen offered plenty of countryside ambience, Supergrass’ latest revels in a distinctly grittier decadence, and the album also offers its share of odd blips and beeps--- the sort you’d expect from a studio which used to be practically next to the Berlin Wall. “Rebel In You”, for all of its straightforward rock trappings, contains a weirdly wobbly Brian Eno-esque synth solo which wouldn’t feel out of place on Bowie’s Heroes, and the same goes for the troubled saxophone squalls punctuating the haunted shuffles of “The Return Of…”
Then there’s the flat-out bizarre rant of “Whiskey & Green Tea” -- did the anything-goes spirit of Berlin play a role in Supergrass’ most mouth-foaming moment on the record? Who can say, but the song certainly delivers divinely frenzied release with its sweaty proclamations of being chased by Chinese dragons, the KGB, and, er, William S. Burroughs while saxophones skronk and squeal holy hell. I seriously doubt that anyone bedazzled by the toothsome charms of “Alright” all those years ago could ever have seen this one coming…
Fancy some reminiscing? Here’s the vid for “Alright.” Ah, so young…:
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