Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
The 1990s are as far away now as the late 60s and early 70s were when that insistent decade began, a decade that was bookended by the gesture of hope as the aftermath of the Berlin Wall finally came tumbling down just a few short months before, and the finality of the party realised as the insanity of the Y2K bug bore down like a spectre, driving everybody to distraction and chaos.
Inevitably the only measure of concern that it caused was that somehow it could not erase the previous ten years for the Generation X crowd as they found themselves having been shunted out the way as the main purchaser of music hits and the self-appointed guardians of cool; the generation who were alienated and individualistic, nihilistic, pessimistic, rebellious, maligned, defined by the waste, the splurge and the foundation of the 80s and the threat of Nuclear War hanging over their head. They were the radical with no war to fight and as the 1990s began they saw their world change in favour of the next as advertising and Government caught on to the fact that they had had their chance of Life, and now it was someone else’s turn.
The 1990s, music wise, was one that was arguably the most divisive before or since, the anarchy and the polish of the past had gone, grunge was seen as the new revolution, high achieving existentialism had been replaced by a realisation that very few acts that the 90s held as their own could be seen as being a part of the previous generation’s thoughts, of their Life.
It was a life that thankfully The Cardigans slotted neatly into, a revolution in themselves, not just because they endowed the Scandinavian spirit of being different and yet quirky and charming, or indeed because they managed to stay true to a style of performance that suited the ears that made popular music more like an artistic endeavour with video and imagination but because like Pulp, Blur, Tori Amos, The Divine Comedy, Nirvana, Red Hot Chili Peppers and No Doubt, they had something deep in their D.N.A that was identifiable as having been immersed in what went before whilst striding forward with a creative sound.
Although not their physical debut album, The Cardigan’s Life was given that particular treatment, it was almost a rebirth, the moment in which they became part of the conscious, and only a short step before the arguably spiritual highs which came with First Band on the Moon and Gran Turismo over the next few years.
Life, it has a habit of repeating itself, and almost 20 years after the 90s departed it comes back full circle, and with fortune, it holds outstretched The Cardigan’s second album release firmly in its defiantly stubborn hand and reminds the listener of the reason why the band have been missed in the subsequent years that followed their sixth and final studio album, Super Extra Gravity.
Life holds sway, it is the fortune bearer of what was to come in their next two albums, it is the initial call of the wild and the untamed as they eagerly explore the signature of music, and in a way it is a hybrid of the Progressive and Jazz genres, with more than an allusion to the Pop sensibility that gave them their deserved fanbase. Across songs such as the opener Carnival, Daddy’s Car, Beautiful One, Travelling With Charley and Sunday Circus Song, Life holds the attention of the listener with excellent balance, it is the growing anticipation of what will come in the future that makes this album a genuinely pleasing affair, a recommendation to keeping seeing Life as beautiful and inspiring.
A group fully deserving of having their back catalogue re-issued on vinyl, the depth of such adventure is an addition to any collection.
Ian D. Hall