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For sheer versatility, you’d be hard pressed to find another
creative figure anywhere who can match Nitin Sawhney. Still only in
his 40s, the Kent-born polymath’s work rate and range of
achievements are quite incredible. As well as nine studio albums,
he’s also found time to score the music for over 40 films, several
ballet and theatre productions, advertising campaigns for Nike and
Yves Saint Laurent, and the soundtrack for the BBC’s acclaimed
Human Planet series. He’s collaborated with Paul
McCartney, Sting and Brian Eno, has four honorary
doctorates and was a founding member of the team behind hit British
Asian sketch show Goodness Gracious Me. Basically, Sawhney is
the grown up, nationally successful version of that annoying kid at
school who was good at absolutely everything.
Last Days Of Meaning sees him joining forces with another famous
friend, the actor John Hurt, who narrates a number of spoken word
monologues on the album in his role as Donald Meaning, a bitter old
man who loathes modern society and lives alone in freezing, dingy
flat. Yes ladies and gentlemen, this is a full-blooded concept album,
intended to provide, so Sawhney’s website informs us, “a response to
the fear, dogmatism and entrenchment we sometimes acquire with age”.
Using a cassette player sent to him by his ex-wife for reasons
unexplained, Meaning listens to Sawhney’s songs, which provide a
sympathetic commentary on his depressing, insular little world and
ultimately give him hope.
Quite what the average geriatric recluse would make of Sawhney’s
eclectic, shape-shifting music is debatable, but for those more
familiar with his earlier work, all the usual diverse ingredients are
present and correct on Last Days Of Meaning. It kicks off with the
bluesy harmonica and guitar of The Devil And Midnight, featuring the
soulful vocals of Phantom Limb’s Yolanda Quartey, who chastises
Meaning by singing “it's an easy life for the angry kind with a heart
that's growing cold/Just close your eyes and blame the world."
Confessions For The Womb has the kind of mellow coffee table beats
that Sawhney specialises in, while Say You Will sees his other key
influence, Indian classical music, enter the mix for the first time.
The best moments appear around the half way point with Projector, a
gently lilting lullaby with longstanding collaborator Tina Grace’s vocals on the chorus
recalling Nico in her pomp, and the elegantly atmospheric
Daydream, a showcase for Ashwin Srinivasan’s blissful flute
work.
Several of Sawhney’s albums have a central theme at their core –
Displacing The Priest is a criticism of organised religion; Beyond
Skin, which remains his masterpiece, reflects on the development of
India into a nuclear power. But unlike these two records, Last Days Of
Meaning feels like a selection of disparate musical snapshots rather
than a satisfying whole, with little coherence of style to support the
storytelling process. Although Hurt’s narration provides some
continuity, it strays a little too close to Victor Meldrew-like parody
to be a truly convincing portrayal of a tormented man’s twilight
years, and Sawhney’s songs would frankly flow much better without his
presence.
That Nitin Sawhney is prodigiously talented is not in question, but
nevertheless Last Days Of Meaning is the latest in a lengthening
series of underwhelming, frustrating albums since the
Mercury-nominated Beyond Skin in 1999, characterised by uneven song
writing and attempts to stir one genre too many into the sonic melting
pot. While not as flawed and over-ambitious as London Undersound or
Human, the feeling persists that this is an artist who would benefit
from calling a halt to all the grand projects for a while and going
back to basics.
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