With occasional reflection on the perpetual absurdity/intrigue of life and society in general.

Friday, June 24, 2022

The Optical Files #88: The Streets - A Grand Don't Come For Free (2004)


I lost track of what Mike Skinner was doing after this album, but this relisten made me want to catch back up with his work as The Streets, because I just love what he did here. I think it's generally agreed upon that Original Pirate Material is his iconic album, but A Grand Don't Come For Free captivated me more then. The production might have been more innovative on the debut, but the follow-up's mixture of cinematic beats & ambitious concept was right up my alley. I had friends from London at the time who told me that my interest in this album had to do with the life of a "geezer" seeming exotic to me, & that might be true to an extent. But no matter what I came for, I know I stayed for the storytelling.

The brilliance of A Grand Don't Come For Free is that its existence as a slacker concept album, almost a rock-opera parody, does not stop it from having real emotional heft, from the gentle piano & commonplace romance of "Could Well Be In" to the tranquil acoustic guitars & ascending strings of the devastating "Dry Your Eyes" to the triumphant turnaround of the final track. The album is a philosophical testament to how events that seem earthshattering (losing money, losing a girlfriend, losing a friendship) are usually just steps on the journey--the world keeps turning, there are more joys & sorrows around the corner.

In the opening moments of the album its big dramatic movie score orchestra foreshadows a catastrophe, & we are then treated to a litany of relatively minor annoyances: a failure to return a rented DVD, insufficient funds at the ATM, a dead phone battery. Then we learn at the end of the song that Mike has lost £1000, which is the conflict propelling the rest of the story forward. Subsequent songs display a mastery of pace & storytelling--like a mystery author, he mixes in enough mundane details that you don't know which will be important later on (like his broken television) & which are simply there to add color to the world. Comical transitions like the warm, appreciative "Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way" leading into the clattering "Get Out Of My House" don't overpower the genuine feelings like "Blinded by the Lights" with the immersive loneliness of a situation many listeners can relate to: losing track of your friends in a crowded club having just taken drugs, the off-kilter synth pulses evoking the paranoia & creeping unease of gradually discovering you're more fucked up than you thought.

Another comic juxtaposition of music to subject matter occurs in "What Is He Thinking," with suspenseful mystery music scoring an unspoken conversation about the provenance of a jacket. As in the opening track, this seemingly low-stakes conflict culminates in a revelation of significant import. One of the album's themes seems to be how you never know which of life's myriad minor vexations will turn into something momentous until it's too late. Another authorial interest seems to be communication: technology (phones & texting), misunderstandings, silence speaking louder than words. Pretty much everything that happens in the story is the result of poor communication--mechanical, emotional or both.

Apparently Mike Skinner has toyed with the idea of making a film, and based on the storytelling displayed in this album, I would love to see it. History has shown that this isn't the iconic Streets album, nor is it a direction he continued in with his music. It's a curious little artistic detour, but an utterly compelling one.

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