THE REAL STUART SEMPLE, Acrylic, charcoal & paint marker on canvas, 170 x 240 x 7 cm, 2010
ALBUM REVIEW BY EMMA EDMONDSON LIFE IN BRITAIN’S BEEN A BIT OF A BITCH LATELY. . . A crippled empire hunched under a recession cloud. Once just a misty, historical noun now that ‘r’ word has taken on the form of a very present day, distinctly sewer tasting, expletitive. Mentioned in every media breath it’s impossible to get away from the apparent decay of our people <strong>and</strong> the Engl<strong>and</strong> they occupy. Enter Stuart Semple. As British as fish <strong>and</strong> chips, <strong>and</strong> as sentimental <strong>and</strong> mushy about the country as the peas that go with it, every track on Semple’s new album is part of a series of social commentings that will be recognised by anyone who’s experienced the financial, <strong>and</strong> emotional, wrath of the past few years. Yep, Y that’s you that is. But fret not, it’s not all doom <strong>and</strong> gloom in Semplel<strong>and</strong>. Signature pop sounds weave into an otherwise melancholy sincerity adding a uniquely jovial aesthetic that elbows its influences back to the lyrical, yet cutting, wit of Damon Albarn <strong>and</strong> co. This undeniably British flavoured focus runs through each song. With Stuart even referencing Blur’s lyrics to Stereotypes, off that great British album The Great Escape, in “This l<strong>and</strong>…Was built for you <strong>and</strong> me”. A technicolour, surround sound comment on the decay of British society, Stuart may knowingly elbow those Brit-poppers, who summed up life as a twenty-something in London so well almost two decades ago, but he injects that idea’s vein with a finely tuned serum of modernity. Nodding towards the fast food instamatic lifestyle that so many of us lead today it reeks of TV dinner sex <strong>and</strong> suburbia. Tongue in cheek lyrics hover over semi-detached houses whilst, behind a curvy Lisa Minnelli-masked lady clad in a union jack bikini, Semple’s to-the-point shopping list prose of pizza, burger, fellatio <strong>and</strong> chips spells out a familiar convenience soup that so many of us dine on each day. THE T HAPPY HOUSE BY STUART SEMPLE Much like his Brit-pop musical counterparts Semple again cheekily pokes fun at our British ‘shut up <strong>and</strong> carry on’ attitude in st<strong>and</strong>out track ‘Quiet desperation / the English way’. A surreal <strong>and</strong> colourful chequered l<strong>and</strong>scape of Rayban sporting Magpies is the orchestral backdrop for a classic English gent’s profile. This sullen character with his eyes looking to the floor reminds us what really lies beneath that silence. There are multi-faceted references to the pill-popping mentality of generation now, alongside Stuart’s own experiences of life’s fragility, in ‘Nut job’. A hollow cheeked Brett Anderson-alike in grey hues is overtaken by the screaming vocals; “Nut job”. Surrounded by a splattering of c<strong>and</strong>y coloured pills here Semple gets personal, retracing his near- death experience after a severe nut allergy. Now suffering from an anxiety disorder after the trauma Stuart shrugs not only at the alphabet of recreational drugs readily used by many a person but reminds us how today everybody’s in therapy, on anti-depressants. Everyone’s damaged goods, labelled with a mental illness <strong>and</strong> seeking a quick cure. A sign, possibly, of what this over-stimulated culture is slowly doing to us all. A smattering of space oddity glitter adds a sad glamorama to this track with Stuart whispering from the sidelines; watch out, this party’s going to end, <strong>and</strong> it’s going to be over soon. In ‘After the Fall’ Semple’s signature scantily clad supermodel skinny-girl returns to the record’s catwalk. A towering, laser eyed Barbarella, wearing Minnie Mouse ears <strong>and</strong> clutching a Lidl bag, she’s a powerful consumerist figure glaring out from the soundscape. A fitting finale for the album she looks straight into the future from her static stance while Semple asks her, <strong>and</strong> us, “Where do we go from here?” An important question indeed. And although Stuart may not have the definitive answer, solution or cure for the Britain he so skilfully illustrates, one thing’s for sure - whichever way we do end up going he’ll have an ipod of anthems at the ready, all itching to say something insightful <strong>and</strong> intriguing about it. Photographs by Rosie Hallam WALK W ALK UNAFRAID, U UNAFRAID, Acrylic, charcoal & paint marker on canvas, 240 x 170 x 7 cm, 2010 41 - 42 Berners Street, London, W1T 3NB, UK info@mortonmetropolis.com mortonmetropolis.com 9
Change language