c-option's Full Review: Cake by The Trash Can Sinatras
In tribute to the crushing insignificance of the payouts for music reviewers rendered by Epinions' many "improvements" during my long absence and in honor of the never-ending string of zeros in my earnings summaries, I have decided to mark my reentry into the world of Epinions by submitting a crushingly insignificant album review to take up precious space in the Epinions database. Lest you reach for your neighborhood watch badge, gentle reader, I assure you that wanton abuse of my Epinions posting privileges is not my intention. I assure you that my review of the Trash Can Sinatras' Cake will not be worthless because of its grammatical ineptitude or lack of the crucial information a purchaser would need to make the almighty purchasing decision. To the contrary – I will include, I believe the technical term is "scads," of said information. No, the worthlessness of this review derives from the fact that I can't imagine that anyone in America has even considered purchasing this album since 1993, and I wouldn't expect my humble pen to convince anyone to the contrary. (So long Income Share.)
Which is not to say this is a bad album. Far from it, in fact. Purchased on the basis of one viewing of The Trash Can Sinatras' video for "Obscurity Knocks" on 120 Minutes back when it was still hosted by Dave Kendall (and back when it still existed on regular MTV – you see, kids, there used to be this thing called "alternative music"), Cake is, in fact, one of the hidden gems of my music collection, an album that should be in the possession of any true pop lover worth his/her salt. If I had my druthers, The Trash Can Sinatras and their literate brand of indie music would take its rightful place in the vaulted Scottish pop canon right alongside all-time great fellow Glaswegian bands like BMX Bandits, The Pastels, Teenage Fanclub, and Belle and Sebastian. That they haven't is more a consequence of the fickleness of fate than the band's own lack of merit.
Founded in 1987 (and perhaps still around today continuing to release albums that no one's buying), The Trash Can Sinatras were a five-piece band from Scotland who made three albums of crystalline-guitared three-minute pop songs marked most notably by sharply literate and touchingly self-obsessed lyrics sung in heavily accented Scottish brogues with bright harmonies. Released in 1990, Cake was their first album, and definitely their best (though I also really enjoyed their sophomore effort I've Seen Everything).
These boys loved words, and puns especially. Their most notable single and one of my all-time favorite songs, the aforementioned and oh-so-appropriately-titled "Obscurity Knocks" is full of both. An uptempo tale of reaching a supposedly significant point in your life and realizing that your reality comes nowhere close to your expectations of what you thought you would have accomplished, the lyrics spin out so quickly it seems the singers never once stop to catch their breath. A sample (provided not as filler, of course, but to aid you in your purchasing decision):
Oh, rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two.
Looking at my watch and I'm half past caring.
In the lap of luxury it comes to me:
Is this headboard hard? I'm I a lap behind?
But to face doom in a sock stenched room, all by myself,
Is the kind of fate I never contemplate.
Lots of people would cry, though none spring to mind.
and, the kicker:
I know what it's like to sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life.
Ever stopped to think and found that nothing was there?
I could relate to it when I was seventeen and I can relate to it now. Like me, The Trash Can Sinatras were always old and pessimistic beyond their years.
Although few of the other songs on the album exhibit the sheer catchiness of "Obscurity Knocks," which you cannot help but sing along with at the top of your lungs (even though you have no idea what they're saying half the time), just about every song on Cake is a winner, and the band moves smoothly between upbeat danceable tunes and gentler, more reflective numbers. "The Best Man's Fall" is one of the latter, a song of bitter disappointment and longing, another song I could relate to both when I was young and now that I'm horribly wizened and old. "The Best Man's Fall" also features my favorite line of the album – "You came into my life like a brick through a window, and I cracked a smile." "Funny" is another lovely slow number, about a "funny kind of girl" who didn't like the singer's "style" but whom he "loved in [his] own fashion" (ah...puns. Such a noble artifice). If the uptempo numbers are more your style, I highly recommend "Circling the Circumference" and "Only Tongue Can Tell." Throw them on your British indie jukebox and get your booty a' shaking.
Although I realize that no one reading this review will be using it to make a purchasing decision, I still highly recommend that you dig a copy of this little beauty out of the bargain bin at your local Best Buy or your local Amoco station or wherever it is Epinions purchasers buy music. It will be more than worth your $3.99 plus tax. And now that I've got the hang of reviewing inconsequential music for inconsequential payouts, look out Epinions. Reviews of The Railway Children, When in Rome, and Pseudo Echo can't be far behind.
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