Although your reviewer is aware of ADRIAN BELEW'S involvement with the likes of King Crimson, The Bears and Porcupine Tree, he comes to this new solo album "Side One" with fond memories of the well-respected guitarist's work on Bowie's "Lodger" and Talking Heads' still-startling "Remain In Light" ringing in his ears. Belew's work on the latter, especially, has to be heard to be believed, and it's hard to imagine the remarkable dissonant clusters, drones and scales he conjures are coming from a simple guitar and a few FX boxes.
So respect is surely due this most unassuming of six-string geniuses, but love is a little harder to muster when confronted with Belew's solo work. "Side One" is his first solo effort for some time, and it's been put together in power trio format with Primus's Les Claypool handling supple bass duties and Tool's Danny Carey on drums: high-brow math-rock supergroup contenders to a man, huh?
However, while "Side One" is intended as the first part of that scariest of all rock 'concepts' - "the trilogy" - then don't panic prematurely. Its' nine tracks last a mere 33 minutes and there's nary a double-neck guitar within earshot. Belew may have dipped his toe in Prog's deep, dark waters, but he's aware of the post-punkers as well. And "Side One" ultimately is informed by both camps.
Some of it's undeniably cool as well. Opener "Ampersand" features relentless, circular motion riffing, with Belew and Claypool bouncing off loops ("Belewps" in Adrian's vernacular) and Carey pounding out deafening tattoos. It's frenetic, funky and exciting and eventually collapses in on itself in a righteous white-noise maelstrom.
It's an intriguing statement of intent, and the highlights don't end as it peters out, either. "Walk Around The World" blends scurrying, push-me, pull-me guitars and soporific vocals to fine effect, and when Carey enters mid-way the momentum is infectious. Arguably the best track, though, is "Matchless Man", where the band employ tablas and a dreamy, neo-African feel reminiscent of the spacier bits of "Remain In Light". It's sultry and lovely and worth the price of admission alone.
Elsewhere, though, the trio's playful inventiveness hits a brick wall. "Writing On The Wall" initially impresses with its' skinny funk sounding like a more virtuosic version of post-punkers like Big Flame or The Futureheads (with those surprisingly effective soporific vocal harmonies again washing over you), but while Belew's ability is second-to-none, the melody fatally slips the rails before it comes to an end.
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And therein lies the rub. It would be churlish to criticise Belew, Claypool and Carey over their desire to experiment, but too often the remainder of the record struggles to arrange itself into anything that sounds fun and engaging unless you happen to be one of the musicians involved. "Madness" is a good example: it has a woozily attractive intro, but then settles into queasy, nightmare riffing that straddles the biggest of all no-nos: jazz rock. Not good in anyone's language.
Towards the end it seems to lose the plot and surrender, too. "Beat Box Guitar" briefly rallies the troops, coming on like an updated version of the kind of funky set-pieces David Byrne dreamed up for the "Catherine Wheel" OST, but it's merely diverting rather than truly essential. The concluding trio are simply mystifying, however. "Elephants"' initial growling riff gets your ears to prick up, but the band throw it away and ultimately it simply sounds formless. Both "Under The Radar" and the closing rumble of drums and thunder ("Pause") that closes the record, meanwhile, can only be described as ' thumbnail sketches' at best. They leave you feeling shortchanged and frustrated.
Which is a pity, because when "Side One" kicks off, you have seemingly unlimited reserves of respect and slack to cut for Adrian Belew. It's not fair to say he squanders it needlessly because this album does have its' moments, but its' inherent playfulness ultimately isn't enough to win you over. He'll have to buck up his ideas come "Side Two."
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