It’s been a busy few days, between
repairs to our condo, squeezing five days of work into a three day work week (I
have both Monday and Friday off this week) and various social events. That said, I’m ready to move on to a new
album, and that can’t happen until we get this review written, so here we go. Yet another record with a ridiculously long
title.
Disc 446 is… Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?
Year of Release: 1992
What’s up with the Cover? The band reclines on a sofa, early nineties
style. Not much to say here, although
I’m still trying to achieve hair as nice as that guy in front. I can see why he’s on the floor though; the
couch looks kind of crowded. No doubt
this was caused by everyone wanting to sit next to Dolores O’Riordan. I know I wanted to.
How I Came To Know It: This was a pretty big album in the early
nineties. At least I remember it being a
big album. I saw a couple of the singles
on MuchMusic and liked what I heard so I went out and bought it and it has
survived with me over the intervening twenty years.
How It Stacks Up: The Cranberries have six albums, but I only have the
first two. It’s too bad, because the
covers on albums three and four are wickedly proggy. Of the two records that I have, I think I
slightly prefer this one to the follow-up effort, “No Need to Argue.”
Rating: 3 stars.
When I
sat down to write about this album, I couldn’t think of anything to say
(note: this is not like me). It felt like I had just written this review
for some reason. Then I remembered that
back at Disc 440, I wrote a review for a “Crash Vegas,” record, which I
noted as a fine example of early nineties Canadian university music.
“Everybody
Else Is Doing It So Why Can’t We” is the Irish equivalent, and got just as much
play on this side of the Atlantic in its time.
Apart from the accents when they stop singing, the Cranberries reminded
me stylistically a lot of Crash Vegas.
They are another band which features atmospheric pop songs buoyed
principally by the very distinctive voice of the female lead singer.
For the
Cranberries this is Dolores O’Riordan who somehow translates an Irish lilt into
a vocal style that ranges up and down inside a melody, but never quite loses the
tune. It is the kind of singing style
that would make a vocal coach cringe and would wreck these pretty little pop ditties
in the hands of a lesser artist. Instead,
O’Riordan manages to fill these songs with a quirky importance that far exceeds
the relatively simple lyrics involved, mostly about the basics of indie pop
music: lost love, early regret and that frail but fierce resilience that comes
over all of us in the early expression of our independence.
Like
Crash Vegas, musically there is little that stands out from the other players,
who are content to accompany their finest asset. The music is a mood piece of hypnotic guitar
plucking, soft drumming and a rolling cadence that made me think more than a
little of traditional Irish folk music.
At other times the songs have a bit of a punk vibe, but both the punk
and the folk are diluted in enough pop that you only hear it when you listen
for it.
It is
quality pop though – the kind that sounds like anyone could write it until you
realize the band has put together a whole album full of songs that make you
think they were radio hits. A good pop
song should always sound this timeless, and the fact that there is genuine
emotion behind what the band is putting out helps a lot.
O’Riordan’s
voice is masterful in putting the edge to all of this, and keeping the
Cranberries fresh to my ears despite my having played this record a great many
times (although admittedly not often in recent years). She’s got some genuine hurt in there, and she
delivers it so seductively that you’ll be humming along well before you realize
that she’s singing about some not so nice experiences more often than not.
Eventually,
O’Riordan cut her music career off for a while – I seem to recall her marrying
a Canadian in the mid-nineties and having children. If she didn’t marry a Canadian, she certainly
lived in Canada for a while. In any
event, it wasn’t with me, and so I unsurprisingly paid a lot less attention at
the time as a result.
The big
hit on the album (at least in my circles) was “Linger” and the record has
always lingered in my CD collection when others have fallen away. I put it on less and less, but I always enjoy
hearing it when I do pull it out. It’s
an old friend from my frail and fiery youth, or so I like to remember it.
Best tracks: Dreams, Sunday, Linger, Wanted,
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