Memo to The Corrs: You're Forgiven, Not Forgotten.
I was going to hold a grudge for the rest of my natural life. I honestly tried, because this Irish band put out such a phenomenal first album that I couldn't help but be vastly disappointed in the exercise in shark-jumping that was their second album, Talk on Corners. Hello mainstream, goodbye Irish folk influence. I guess it was still there, but the magic woven throughout Forgiven, Not Forgotten was pretty much gone. And their third album, In Blue? Cue Molly Shannon from Saturday Night Live: "Don't get me started. Don't even get me started!" Man, what a festering pile of shameless fluff that album was. The Corrs may be one of the only bands in existence to go from a five-star album to a one-star album within the span of four years.
But despite all of that, something kept me curious about The Corrs. Maybe it was the massive potential that I saw in the combination of gooey romantic pop music and vibrant Irish instrumentation. (For all of my gushing over their first album, it is a pop album and I won't pretend that it isn't - it just happens to be a very classy one.) Maybe it was the fact that they took a break and didn't put out a follow-up to 2000's In Blue until 2004. Maybe their likelihood of scoring a hit single had waned and they'd go back to the way they used to do things. Hey, it's not that I want a band to put out endless repeats of their first album or anything - artists should have the freedom to grow. It's just that losing the thing that makes you unique in order to become a flirty girlie pop group seems more like a regression than a progression in my mind. I'll take staying the same over a regression, thank you very much. I guess I hoped The Corrs would cut their losses and go back to their untainted Irish selves. One can always hold out hope, right?
Well, Borrowed Heaven has arrived, and I've taken a good long time to digest it. I really had to choke it down at times - the first taste came in the form of lead single "Summer Sunshine", and that did very little to reassure me that the band was trying for anything more than an instant replay of the "Breathless" blitz. I swallowed hard and soldiered on, and you know what? Despite a staggering dose of pop fluff lyrics and a few tunes that fall flat, this new album of theirs actually shows some promise. OK, so it's nothing amazing and the overuse of programmed pop elements is still tragic. But they're at least back up to "average" status, which might just get them the Most Improved award when you view this album in comparison to In Blue. Amidst the unabashed pop hooks, they're somehow managing to weave that Irish influence back into the mix. It's not as encompassing and other-worldly as it was on Forgiven, but it often produces interesting results. And ironically, a few tracks where The Corrs go off in completely new directions that are neither straight-up pop nor full-blooded Irish prove to be the album's most successful moments.
Weird, huh? Let's take a closer look.
Summer Sunshine
To sweet beginnings and bitter endings
In coffee city, we borrowed heaven...
Ready for "Breathless", Pt. 2? Not that I disliked the ubiquitous single from way back in 2000/2001; it's just that I didn't really feel like it needed a sequel, what with its straight-up poppy non-Irishness and all. The processed guitar riffs and the programmed drums don't bode well for the song at first, nor do Andrea Corr's chirpy, all-too-major-key melodies, but you know what, there's something to be said for the lyrics here. Alright, so the chorus, where Jim Corr's big ol' guitar comes busting out and we get an overdose of sentimental "I miss you/I'll kiss you" type stuff, is a bit much. But you know, the verses aren't half bad. They talk of being a "solo cello outside a chorus" and borrowing heaven in "coffee city", which is a nice tie-in to the album's title track. And hey, what better to spur a summer romance than sitting and analyzing life over a nice cup of java (preferably the ice blended variety)? Throw in a little galloping piano interlude, and the whole package starts to become a little more attractive. It's fluff, and it's definitely one of the lesser tracks on the record, but what the hey, I'll sing along.
Angel
Confidence and conscience, decadent extravagance
Never ending providence, for loving when I had the chance...
Some quick acoustic guitar picking leads off the second track, which threatens to sound like another pop song at first with its unwelcome synthesized bass notes and more drum programming. (Was Caroline Corr like, dead when this record was being recorded?) Another lyric about missing someone who is "go-ee-yo-ee-yo-ee-yone" leads into another big, booming chorus that declares "Forever angel, I'll be proud to be like you". Alright, not the most profound tribute for a missing person, but I'm willing to grant 'em a little sympathy upon finding out that the siblings are singing about their deceased mother, who taught them how to seize the day and be, like, good and stuff. I tease, but to be truthful, I'm fairly captivated by the cute little Irish reel that chimes in after the chorus. The tin whistle and fiddle that provide this reel end up being a focal point of the song as they lead out of the bridge and pull off a slick key change into the final chorus (not quite as slick as "Heaven Knows" all those years ago, but still a great way to spruce up an already solid hook). It may be cliche, but it's still a keeper.
Hideaway
You can't waste more time
'Cause you've been gone for far too long
Trapped in his arms, safe without harm
Follow your heart, don't be afraid
The Caroline-Droid 3000 continues to do its dirty work as shameless, bubbling synths set a moodier tune for more of a mid-tempo track. We've got another instance of pure fluff here, as The Corrs try to offer up some encouragement for a girl who is being held back by a guy or some invisible force that expects her to be something she's not. The response: "Don't hideaway; I know that you've got what it takes." You know how it goes for both Top 40 pop bands and post-grunge winnable rock bands (who are cut more from the same cloth than they realize): everything is "away". Personally, I preferred "Runaway". But whatever. If this sort of "Follow your heart"/"You can be what you wanna be" stuff floats your boat, then have at it. I'll just enjoy Jim's jangly little guitar solo in the middle eight and then move on.
Long Night
It doesn't really matter now you're gone
You never were around that much to speak of...
Weepy ballad, here we come! Mild strokes of electric guitar, and more subdued programming thumping, lead us into another song about someone who went bye-bye. I think it's more lover than deceased mother this time around, and the cold absence has caused Andrea to get "stage fright, caught in thee 'eadlights." Something like that. It unfolds as a fairly typical ballad at the beginning, and not to be too hard on the band - there were a few tracks even in their early days that started off more normal and became more distinctive as they went on. The sweet background vocals, provided by the other two sisters, are fairly sufficient to distract from the banal lyrics until the bridge, where the song is rescued in grand style by a beautifully woven fiddle interlude from Sharon Corr. It does seem like a case of stapling the Irish influence to the track after the fact, instead of starting there and applying a keen pop sensibility, but it's pretty, so I won't complain about it too much. I love the way it suddenly cuts off at the end.
Goodbye
Tell me it's true, tell me there's something more
Another time for love
One day I'll know, one day I'll be there
Will you be waiting?
A fairly upbeat, piano-driven track shows up next, and it turns out to be another song dedicated to Mama Corr. Interestingly, I think I'm hearing live drums on this one, even if they do sound very studio-produced and safe (par for the course for any Corrs record) and there are more shameless synths bubbling right underneath. The tone here is slightly more conversational, revealing a longing to break through to the other side and find out what its like for mommy dearest in Heaven. It's a nice sentiment, and while they won't win any award for profound lyrics, it doesn't sound like every single song written on the subject, either. The production layers the piano, acoustic guitar, drums, and electric guitars quite nicely underneath the vocals, even giving Sharon another brief violin interlude. Nothing Earth-shattering, but it's slightly more convincing in terms of marrying the Euro-pop stuff to The Corrs' classier side.
Time Enough for Tears
Let's read the trees and their autumn leaves
As they fall like a dress undone
At the end of summers, love will find lovers
Who need the shadow of a winter's sun...
Up next is one of those tracks that just makes me wonder how The Corrs do it. How do they write albums almost entirely filled with fluff, and then turn around and give us a song like this that drips with cuteness and sentimentality, and yet also hits with a fully convincing emotional force? The answer might have something to do with their fellow Irishmen Bono and Gavin Friday, who wrote the song. Which is not to say that it sounds like U2 or anything, but man, this is a pop song with class. It's got a very dreamy melody to it, which is only sweetened by the light, airy piano playing and gently plucked classical guitar that just barely anchor its rhythmic framework - a flowing 6/8 that comes sweeping through like a peaceful summer breeze. The percussion is deliciously restrained here, and I don't want to say it gives the song a jazzy feel, because that would be misleading, but Caroline is definitely doing more tapping than banging, and it's working quite well for the band. The sweet "ooh la la la"s are a nice counterbalance to the weighty lyrics, which speak of hardships and reasons for a couple to get mired in depression and not enjoy the love that they share. For once, the concept of seizing the moment and not letting sorrow steal it away is conveyed with sincerity and depth, and while there's none of the traditional Irish influence to be found, this is one moment where I'm not going to complain about it, because the band has pulled off a surprisingly fabulous song.
Humdrum
This is every girl's dream, no milk left for your tea
Babies crying louder than me
Who lost the keys of your car, sorry, that'd be me
I'd wake up, only I'm not asleep...
Did you ever want to hear what would happen if The Corrs did vaguely urban, teenybopper pop? Well, neither did I, but we didn't get a choice in the matter. From the hints of record scratching and the looped "I want, I want..." at the beginning, it's clear that The Corrs haven't learned how to let go of their silly girlie-pop aspirations. The funny thing is that the slinky bounce of this song and the attitude-laden lyrics actually work for the band, in a sort of ironic fashion. They're all about wanting to take a guy for granted, take over his house with domestic girlie things, ignore him when he wants attention, destroy his belongings... basically all the crap Kate Hudson pulled in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. And you know, I should be like, offended or something, but I think there's a little more going on under the surface here. I mean, maybe Andrea's saying that even though these mundane things are going to happen and she's going to goof up and treat the guy like chopped liver at times, she still has this romantic vision of settling down with him and striving to make life better than that. Or maybe I'm on crack and she really is being that superficial and shallow. I have to chuckle at the end when she blurts out, "Did I say that out loud?" While all of this is going on, the group seems to be making a bizarre attempt to sound like the Irish equivalent of ZOEgirl (no lie; the vocals are so alike it's scary), complete with another cute little reel jammed into the song's funky rhythm in a way that, against all odds, kinda sorta sounds good.
Even If
Now we're alone, gonna show how much I need you
Kiss you so you won't ever wanna leave me...
A fairly standard upbeat song follows here - piano and acoustic guitar driven until its gets to another big chorus that comes busting out of the gates. The lyrics are basically the mirror image of "Long Night", describing how the world is bright and things are easy to handle when so-and-so decides to hang around. It's fluff, fluff, and more fluff, made worse by the presence of silly lines like - I kid you not - "You're my friend, you're my lover, want to bite you." (Cue Jim Carrey: "All-RIGHTY then!!!") OK, so there's another fun little fiddle interlude in the middle, but even that can't keep my attention in this hopelessly inane song that compares a guy to "the ground I walk on". Um, yeah, I'm flattered.
Borrowed Heaven
You gave me life and I will give it back
But before I do, I'm gonna hold it tight
This is my prayer...
Enter left-field surprise number 2. The album's title track actually makes good on its intriguing moniker by giving us a subtly religious viewpoint of life as something we've borrowed and that we have to give back. Suddenly The Corrs have transformed from high-school-age, diary-writing swooners into much more mature diary-writing swooners. It's an effective transition, I think. For once, the programming and synths manage to not annoy me, offering a chunky counterpoint to another sweet melody and more gentle piano playing. I'm tempted to check the liner notes for Bono's influence again, but nope, I have to give credit where it's due this time - it's a Corrs original. While it's odd to hear Andrea placing emphasis on the second syllable of "bor-ROWED", it's easy to ignore that and fall in love with the seductive rhythm, and the fun little keyboard part that gets mixed with more sweet violin playing during the interlude. The best surprise is saved for last: African vocal group Ladysmith Black Mambazo shows up to give the song some unexpected ethnic flavor, and while African influence is about the last thing I'd expect to work on an album by an Irish band, it turns out to be a beautiful little culture clash. (I know, I know, U2 did it a long time ago. It still ain't something you hear every day.)
Confidence for Quiet
I'm not hungry, no, I'm over fed
Satisfied with the life I've led
Moving on to where you can't see
What is me, well, it's just for me...
OK, back to the land of programming and playful girlie-stuff. Actually, that may not be an entirely apt description, since this song opens up into more of a straight-ahead rock arrangement akin to the oldie-but-goodie "Secret Life". Something about its song, despite its straightforward arrangement and slightly flat, attitude-laden BGV's, strikes me as enigmatic. It's probably the lyrics. Andrea is clearly fed up with something and ready to walk away from it, stating that she's got "confidence for quiet". (Cue Jude Law from I Heart Huckabees: "What does that even mean?") What Andrea's finding the courage to escape from, I honestly can't figure out. But there's enough to the lyrics to make me think it's not a throwaway song, and once again Sharon provides a brief flight of fancy with her fiddle playing, which is kind of becoming the standard way of going, "See? We're still doing the Irish stuff, honest?", but I'll admit I'm still a sucker for it. We get another slick ending here with the background vocals cutting out rather neatly, which is one of those things that will always tickle my ears.
Baby Be Brave
Way far down below you don't feel it
Yeah, everyone knows but we don't believe it
The pain of a pop star, you're breaking my heart...
Another semi-successful attempt to marry programmed pop with traditional instruments shows up here, and it's not too bad of a song. The title might cause you to expect something as eye-rollingly cliche as "Hideaway", but we're on much better ground here, as Andrea inquires, "Tell me what's it all for if you're not terrified to fail?" Throughout the song, Andrea comes off as empathic, instead of as an impersonal Hallmark card, which is a relief. She wants to hear a person's story, find out what exactly they're afraid of, and get them to use that fear as kind of an adrenaline high to keep them going rather than as a barrier. I don't know, it's probably just psychological mumbo-jumbo, but It's an unexpected approach, and I like it. A violin line that turns out to be more tense than pretty works itself in with the backbeat, which is a nice effect, and it's that violin (along with some canned strings in the background which I could take or leave) that eventually slows the song to a halt, closing out the last song with words on the album.
Silver Strand
For all of my bellyaching about The Corrs losing sight of their roots on their last two albums, they have always made an attempt at a heavily Irish-influenced instrumental, at or near the end of their albums. While "Rebel Heart" sounded squarely out of place and somewhat forced at the end of In Blue, this time around the group sounds as comfortable as they did playing the beautiful "Erin Shore" all those years ago. The piano sets up a mid-tempo beat, over which a tin whistle and Sharon's violin do a lovely duet - not something quite fast enough to do a jig to or anything like that, but it does give the feeling of taking a leisurely flight over Ireland's lush green hills, which places it closer to the territory of something Iona might do, except less complex. Andrea uses a wordless vocal to add another beautiful layer to the track, and while I'm still kind of bummed that this sort of thing is more of a footnote in The Corrs' history at this point, I'll take what I can get!
In the end, I'd have to say that Borrowed Heaven is a mix of beautiful sounds, both from the traditional and modern camps, and a lot of boring middle-of-the-road pop stuff that tries needlessly to snag an audience when the group has more than enough musical skill to captivate without relying on that stuff. It's frustrating to hear a group like this not living up to their potential. But they've clawed their way back up from the abyss, and I'll give 'em the benefit of the doubt and assume that Borrowed Heaven is merely a snapshot of a group on the rebound. What happens next is a total crapshoot, and I certainly wouldn't be dumb enough to expect their next album to be Forgiven, But Still Not Forgotten or anything. But if they can harness what worked for them here and ditch what didn't, they could probably turn out another really solid album or two.
Quick, someone go find them a four-leaf clover!
ALBUM WORTH:
Summer Sunshine $.50
Angel $1.50
Hideaway $0
Long Night $1
Goodbye $1
Time Enough for Tears $2
Humdrum $1.50
Even If $0
Borrowed Heaven $2
Confidence for Quiet $1
Baby Be Brave $1
Silver Strand $1.50
TOTAL: $13
Band Members:
Andrea Corr: Lead vocals, tin whistle
Sharon Corr: Violin, backing vocals
Jim Corr: Guitars, keyboards, backing vocals
Caroline Corr: Drums, bodhran, piano, backing vocals
Website: http://www.thecorrswebsite.com
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