It’s high time Andy Bell received the recognition he deserves.
With his career in music spanning over 30 years – firstly with one of the most prominent bands of the shoegaze movement (Ride), and then one of the biggest bands of all time (Oasis) – he should by rights already have near-legendary status.
Over the last five years, his output has been astonishing. Inspired (if that’s the right word) by the death of David Bowie and his relentless prolificity, Bell has overseen two Ride albums, two albums and a glut of EPs under the GLOK pseudonym, and one ‘traditional’ solo album.
And now, with a tour to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Ride’s debut album already on the 2022 slate, Bell has somehow found the time to unleash his biggest project to date: a double album of 18 songs as his second solo album. And a hefty undertaking it is.
The tracks date from 2016 (with some from even further back) when Bell and his former Oasis/Beady Eye bandmate Gem Archer laid them down, Bell adding meat to their bones during lockdown.
The 18 compositions cover a wide variety of sounds and feels; from his trademark wistful, dream fuzz to baroque pop and even country, while finessing a classic songwriting approach which finds Bell in a contemplative mood.
Described as a conversation with his teenage self, numerous nuggets of lyrical wisdom pepper the album: ‘Life’s too short so don’t waste your time’, he advises on the winsome It Gets Easier, while on the superb Something Like Love he opines that, ‘You should never wish your time away, now the picture’s fading away’.
The latter track (and lead single) is devastatingly melancholic, fostering a feeling of instant nostalgia for a time that should have been or never was. The type of song that upon listening to, you find yourself staring at the sky, lost in its majesty. It’s the best thing Andy Bell’s written in his long career. Sublime.
And it’s not just sage advice to his younger self. The chunky, ambling Way Of The World (complete with brass flourishes) takes our current political predicament to task: ‘Too much truth will make you prefer the lie…they never listen so I’m saying fuck all’, while elsewhere on This Is Our Year, Bell openly asks David Bowie for insight, namechecking the Thin White Duke before asking, ‘Are you watching our collective fever dream? Did we shift dimensions back in 2016? David and the aliens, come and take us away’. It may be a little on-the-nose for some, but it’s a popular sentiment among music fans which only resonates more as time goes on.
Consciously a double album, the two halves open with tracks (The Sky Without You and The Looking Glass) which belie Bell’s appreciation of the musical greats, both consisting of backwards effects which echo both mid-period Beatles and The Stone Roses’ Don’t Stop.
While guitar-fuzz is (broadly speaking) his signature sound, numerous other instruments are added to the pot: We All Fall Down is a delightful ballroom waltz driven by piano, while the ivories work in conjunction with the organ on the swaggering, Stonesy electronic blues of No Getting Out Alive.
While most of the time Bell’s vocals are familiar, he delivers a playful falsetto on the crunching Sidewinder while fully kissing the sky through his guitar on the awesome Riverside. When The Lights Go Down is an intimate instrumental with brushed drums and mournful sax, while another instrumental, Gyre And Gimble, is Elizabethan in mood.
And on and on it goes, each track building an immersive world of Bell’s own creation. At 1 hour and 17 minutes Flicker requires commitment, but it’s a pleasure to bathe in such soothing musical waters.
The commitment is rewarded in spades, staggering as the album is in its eclecticism, clearly demonstrating the love and attention that has gone into it. As a Beatles aficionado, he will surely appreciate the comparison – Andy Bell has made his White Album.
Time for him to take his place alongside the Wellers and Albarns of the world.
