Although it was released a decade-and-a-half ago, The Wedding Present's George Best still sounds raw and fresh today. On first hearing the record, I immediately recognized that David Gedge was a genius at relating relationships, i.e. conveying the joy, pain, self-doubt and basic pure emotions one feels during the course of personal intimacy. The jangling guitars in the background were pure bonus material.
Fifteen years on, Gedge is still picking at the same scabs, even if he's doing it slightly more quietly these days. It's hard to believe that someone who seemed so new and exciting in 1987 would turn out to be so predictable. Torino, produced by Steve Albini, the helmsman behind TWP's alleged masterpiece, Seamonsters (and by "alleged," I don't mean that it's not a great record; I'm just partial to George Best) is pretty much what you'd expect from a Gedge album these days: the quiet-loud-quiet music, the obsessive overanalysis and jealousy and heartbreak lyrics.
If I'm giving a negative impression of Torino I don't mean to: though romantic angst may be Gedge's stock in trade, no one does it better. And we're deep in Gedge territory here: "I thought by being sleazy that I could, well, just make this easy," says the narrator of "Estrella," imploring his girlfriend to discover his infidelities and break up with him. "If he's only an old buddy, why does he stare at your breasts?" asks the jealous protagonist in "And When She Was Bad." The problem related in "Quick, Before it Melts," is obvious enough; I like the winking "extended version."
So how good is Torino? It depends on how much Gedge you can handle. If you never get tired of his work, you will certainly find enough on this album to enjoy. (And his voice seems to be mellowing into some kind of croon, which is odd in itself.) If a little bit goes a long way, try the aforementioned TWP albums and the first Cinerama album (Va Va Voom), which, to me, is the last great record he's done. In the end, I'm ambivalent about the album. It's a bit like eating at McDonalds: whether you buy your Big Mac in San Francisco or Beijing, you know exactly what it's going to taste like before you open the wrapper. It's simply a question of how much you like Big Macs.
This review appears in slightly modified form at The Minor Fall, The Major Lift.
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