The Durutti Column - Vini Reilly - 2CD/3CD - Factory Benelux
Factory Benelux (and to a lesser extent, Les Disques du Crepuscule) has been keeping the legacy of The Durutti Column alive for the last decade or so with some unrivalled repackaging and reformatting of the outfit's canon and Vini Reilly the album is no exception.
Produced with Stephen Street and centred around a core of Reilly himself and drummer and catalyst Bruce Mitchell, 1989's Vini Reilly stands up as one of The Durutti Column's most approachable records.
The drum-machines of yore have been almost entirely eschewed in favour of Mitchell's dextrous brush-work or even no drums at all, while the atmospheric keyboards are used beautifully but sparingly across the album. What little digital technology is employed, it's primarily used for sampling pure acapella voices, rather than performing tricksy edits and the groovy dance aesthetics of the soon-to-appear Obey The Time and Fidelity.
Very much part of this album's DNA and USP, Reilly and Mitchell's minimal but successful guitar and drum interplay is complimented by a procession of sampled vocal snippets of Joan Sutherland, Tracy Chapman, Annie Lennox, Otis Redding and a few others, topped off by guests such as John Metcalfe, Andy Connell, Rob Gray and operatic Chinese vocalist Liu Sola. It works wonders and there isn't a duff track on the album.
Opener Love No More, the two Opera tracks and Requiem Again are mournful and lachrymose without being mawkish, while Otis, They Work Every Day and Pol in G are playful, warm and abundant with some particularly glorious fretwork from the man Reilly. Special mention also for the closing My Country, a rumbling portentous beast that says a lot by saying very little.
Perhaps the centrepiece here is the expansive Finding The Sea, a vast 10-minute epic formed of three concertos of rolling piano, soaring vocals from Sola, the merest hint of electronica, hefty chunks of guitar work and some thunderous drumming before the whole thing becomes a paean to desolate seas, sunken ships and the aftermath of a tidal surge. I might be overthinking that last bit but it's a terrific piece nonetheless.
Extras include some premium tracks derived from the Sporadic Recordings and Dry sessions - Reilly had written and recorded so much during this period he licensed entire albums to labels at home and overseas - plus the live Womad tracks issued elsewhere. Out of these additions Les Preger, the homage to a one-time neighbour of Bruce Mitchell, is as sad and blissed out a tune you could ever wish to hear. The informative sleevenotes will tell you more.
Pretty much all of the majestic Vini Reilly could have been recorded last week, such is its timeless sound and production. There's no denying what Street brought to the table on this and the preceding Guitar and Other Machines. This though supersedes many later albums by some margin and should be respected as one of Reilly and Mitchell's most iconic records.
10/10
Produced with Stephen Street and centred around a core of Reilly himself and drummer and catalyst Bruce Mitchell, 1989's Vini Reilly stands up as one of The Durutti Column's most approachable records.
The drum-machines of yore have been almost entirely eschewed in favour of Mitchell's dextrous brush-work or even no drums at all, while the atmospheric keyboards are used beautifully but sparingly across the album. What little digital technology is employed, it's primarily used for sampling pure acapella voices, rather than performing tricksy edits and the groovy dance aesthetics of the soon-to-appear Obey The Time and Fidelity.
Very much part of this album's DNA and USP, Reilly and Mitchell's minimal but successful guitar and drum interplay is complimented by a procession of sampled vocal snippets of Joan Sutherland, Tracy Chapman, Annie Lennox, Otis Redding and a few others, topped off by guests such as John Metcalfe, Andy Connell, Rob Gray and operatic Chinese vocalist Liu Sola. It works wonders and there isn't a duff track on the album.
Opener Love No More, the two Opera tracks and Requiem Again are mournful and lachrymose without being mawkish, while Otis, They Work Every Day and Pol in G are playful, warm and abundant with some particularly glorious fretwork from the man Reilly. Special mention also for the closing My Country, a rumbling portentous beast that says a lot by saying very little.
Perhaps the centrepiece here is the expansive Finding The Sea, a vast 10-minute epic formed of three concertos of rolling piano, soaring vocals from Sola, the merest hint of electronica, hefty chunks of guitar work and some thunderous drumming before the whole thing becomes a paean to desolate seas, sunken ships and the aftermath of a tidal surge. I might be overthinking that last bit but it's a terrific piece nonetheless.
Extras include some premium tracks derived from the Sporadic Recordings and Dry sessions - Reilly had written and recorded so much during this period he licensed entire albums to labels at home and overseas - plus the live Womad tracks issued elsewhere. Out of these additions Les Preger, the homage to a one-time neighbour of Bruce Mitchell, is as sad and blissed out a tune you could ever wish to hear. The informative sleevenotes will tell you more.
Pretty much all of the majestic Vini Reilly could have been recorded last week, such is its timeless sound and production. There's no denying what Street brought to the table on this and the preceding Guitar and Other Machines. This though supersedes many later albums by some margin and should be respected as one of Reilly and Mitchell's most iconic records.
10/10