gibberish

I’ve been getting a kicking from Fowlup for my dissing of The Fleet Foxes new and rather good, but not at all great album. And he hasn’t had the bottle to purchase the new Aimee Mann disc without the prior benefit of my outpourings. However, because he is sulking about my review of the FF’s (no, not the Foos) I suspect he will, in turn, seek to take an opposing line with my views on this.

I predict he will say “Ah, Gorman’s off on one of his female singer songwriter” things again. How dull.

Well, perhaps, but the fact is Aimee Mann has returned dramatically to form after the disappointment of The Forgotten Arm.

Her seventh, yes seventh, album “@#x%x*! Smilers” (despite a desperately bad title and sleeve) is a peach from the very first bars of the opener, Freeway. It’s a lush, subtle, melodic, brilliantly arranged mood piece that sits as a companion with with Batchelor No 2 her previous finest hour

Perhaps it’s her most mature work to date. And that wouldn’t be a surprise given that she’s been round the block a few times now.

I was fortunate enough to visit Victoria and Karl in Peterheed last week and amongst other things I played Karl a copy of this album and his view was that he thought he hated Aimee Mann but thought this was great.

It’s excellent stuff.

Don’t listen to Kenneth.

Listen to this…

]