Progress
11 Nov 2010 Leave a Comment
in 2010, music, pop, robbie williams, rock, take that
Following on from the news of Robbie’s return to the boyband fold, the announcement of new material from the five-piece was no surprise, and although we were glad to hear it we could hardly say that the recent musical output of the Robster or the TT filled us with thrills at the idea of a future merger. What has come out of the most anticipated pop reunions ever is, from start to finish, more than just surprising. Lead single The Flood has, let’s face it, Gary Barlow written all over it, though there’s something new there: cutting edge production, electric guitars, a more up-tempo feel and intelligent-ish lyrics. Very good start.
Then we come to SOS, a stomping rock number which reminds one of The Automatic’s ‘Monster’, though hardly as annoying and which is, again, rather intelligent in tone. Mark Owen’s voice, rather than sounding strained and warbly has found its niche in shouty electro pop. Who’d've thunk it!
Wait is nice electro R’nB that is clearly waiting to be a single, with good melodies and some vocals that showcase Robbie’s talent like nothing he’s made in years.
Kidz is the most exciting thing about the album so far. A jaunty glamrock ditty at heart, with more anthemic shoutiness from Mark and really quite good backing vox from Robbie, who currently could not sound happier to be back with his old band.
Pretty Things, a heartfelt ode to some stunningly beautiful woman, is as lovely as it sounds. More cutting edge production, synthisizers with harpsichords and pseudo-classical harmonies add up to something that should be the band’s biggest hit in years.
Happy Now kicks in with weird, growling lyrics that could mean absolutely anything, on top of a thumping dance beat which quite honestly takes the album in a very exciting direction. Autotune and stadium-sized instrumentation make it sound like the song Katy Perry always wanted to release. Discoballs in stylish nightclubs come to mind.
Underground Machine: thrashing drums and truly glamrock instrumentation, alongside Robbie doing his best Bowie impression, all very jaunty and impressive. ‘You can’t sleep with yourself tonight’: I don’t know why this is one of the lines, but it is. Love it.
What Do You Want From Me: echoing, swirling falsettos melt into Mark Owen sweetly warbling about love or something. Quite an ordinary beginning for a neo-Take That number, however the mature Coldplay-esque synth sound quickly kicks in on top of a very now dance beat and one breathes a sigh of relief. You can just tell it’s produced by Stuart Price (it’s totally the song that Scissor Sister’s recent ‘Fire With Fire’ should have been). Mark Owen yells ‘I still wanna have sex with you!’ in the chorus. How lovely!
Affirmation: the emotive piano intro sounds worryingly like a Keane tune circa 2004. Once again the song is rescued about ten seconds in by a catchy, adrenalin-filled backing track that marks the whole album out from others of its ilk. Howard Jones singing smartly at the top of his lungs about being ‘off the edge of your face’ leaves one feeling a bit funny. In a good way, of course.
Eight Letters begins brilliantly with a haunting synth melody and Gary Barlow emoting about what sounds like a painful relationship breakup. It fairly quickly develops into the orchestral, overly earnest movie soundtrack song that has become a Take That trademark in recent years. But then the Ultravox-borrowing chorus melody really lifts it into a different stratosphere. Yearning, powerful; very, very good.
And then there’s Jason Orange’s sublime, ethereal hidden track Flower Bed, and the album couldn’t have ended on a sweeter note. The Coldplay influences are very evident at this point, but it is done in a heartfelt way, and the treatment is progressive enough to give it that edge. ‘I was enjoying myself sleeping in your flower bed’ – well, you can’t say fairer than that, really.
For the first time in my life, I might give an album 10 out of 10 on first listen. It’s really quite nice to hear Robbie sounding happy again, and his influence is very clear here. Until this year the boys were sort of drifting into dad rock oblivion; if they had done so entirely it wouldn’t have mattered, given the runaway success of the first two reunion albums. However, on Progress the five of them are not just on top form: they have become a different band. The last time such a radical shift in musical tone took place may have been over forty years ago, when the Beatles evolved from pop stars into globally influential musical gurus. With Progress, Take That have achieved something remarkable. Given that they formed twenty years ago, and have gone through so much as an entity, it could quite easily have failed. But it hasn’t. I don’t normally predict albums that I will still be listening to in five years’ time – but I hope that this is one of them.
