Album Review: Paul Weller – On Sunset


On sunset




It’s fast becoming one of the more common clichés in British rock, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth highlighting: Paul Weller has been on a rich vein of form for fifteen years, his solo career redeeming itself (at least in his own eyes) over the course of the 1990s before becoming slightly rudderless at the turn of the century.

Buoyed by the success of As Is Now in 2005, with an energy and vitality that had been missing, Weller has since felt no obligation to return to the mod/soul formula he long since mastered.

On Sunset is a reaction to his last album – the reflective, pastoral True Meanings. Where that 2018 effort was restrained and simple, this new slice reveals itself to be more of a challenge, but with better rewards over time.

The opening track, Mirror Ball, was the catalyst that inspired its development, which is hardly surprising as it’s a mini-album in itself. Covering several different movements across seven minutes, it opens with dreamy effects and choral voices before Weller’s own echoes across a mountain range. The track then evolves into something a bit more glittering (reflective of the title) and we are moved into some abstract noise which has an unsettling feel akin to his experimental In Another Room EP earlier in the year, before a quick sojourn into some muffled sub-bass and then back to where we came in. In days gone by, the track would have been the result of a remix by Prof Kybert or Amorphous Androgynous. Now, Weller is adventurous enough to remix himself.

There’s an equally exploratory attitude on More which, swaggering all the way with shuffling, snappy percussion, evolves from a point of sexy flute and French vocals to a sky-kissing guitar on the outro. With scant vocals included, it’s perhaps a bit glib to say it’s like a 21st century Style Council, but there’s a definite lineage from his work in the 1980s.

Recorded largely in Los Angeles, west coast vibes permeate the album (as outlined by the title), the high levels of production dominated by smatterings of funk, strutting bass and sweeping strings. This approach makes latter tracks Equanimity and Walkin’ slightly incongruous compared to what surrounds them; both have a music hall, vaudeville sound (the former channelling McCartney), and are more in hoc to where he was twenty years ago rather than the experimentalism of today.

On the sumptuous title-track, Weller’s vocals are nearly drowned out by the strings, while a gospel choir is added to the breezy Baptiste which recalls Wild Wood and is an ode to his love of music (‘from the mountains high to the valleys low, as long as I got that sound’).

Indeed, as luxuriant and swollen as the production is, it’s some of the lyrical vignettes which stand out. Ironically for someone regarded as one of the most insightful lyricists during his time in The Jam, Weller is no longer particularly heralded for this talent. Yet, he’s no less powerful in his seventh decade, albeit understandably more sanguine: the wistful Village could be the final song in the film of his life (‘saw myself for what I am, found the whole world in my hands’), while on the Ziggy Stardust-esque Rockets, which screams ‘grand finale’, he rails once more against the establishment (‘nothing in the chambers is worth nothing at all’).



His whole ethos is best exemplified on More, confessing that, ‘there’s always something else in store’, which, ‘keeps me running down that road’. If we hadn’t already guessed, Paul Weller intends to maintain this work rate until he drops. Such is his prolificity, if On Sunset doesn’t sound like it’s for you then there will be another one along soon enough.

It continues to be a fascinating journey.

8/10

Richard Bowes


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