My Computer, No CV (Tesla UK) 9+
My Computer are bigger than their misleadingly twee name suggests. This is not some lonely geek on a laptop. It’s two geeks with pretty ambitious sonic aspirations. As we’ve learned from the likes of Amon Tobin, the sound of a boy and a computer can result in some pretty massive sounds. Yet with an ironically modest title like No CV, it’s as if Manchester’s Andrew Chester and David Luke are handicapping the hype machine simply for the twisted pleasure of knocking your pants off by surprise. Sadly, American pants will remain un-knocked simply because their music has never been released here. The brilliant 2002 debut, Vulnerabilia remains an import. One of the most sorely underrated albums that year, it arguably did a better job exploring the workingclass life than Mike Skinner’s The Streets did. And again they top Skinner’s A Grand Don’t Come For Free with its story of the disintegration of a relationship.
”Lonely” kicks off with a roar, sounding like a full band with guitars and feedback blazing. Produced by John Leckie (Pink Floyd, Stone Roses), they seem to be aiming for an even more diverse, full sound. While I’ve previously heard some Billy McKenzie (Associates), Feargal Sharkey (Undertones), Andrew Chester does sound a bit like Jeff Buckley in his more rocking, caterwauling moments here. “I, I’m so listless/Although I’m ambitious/I’m capricious/It’s/Vicious.” Abruptly, the raging tune switches gears into a lovely, languid piano solo with strings. “Stumble” is a soaring ballad where Chester yearns to escape not just heartache but the earth, even evoking Bowie’s Major Tom character – “Take me away/I’ve got stars in my eyes…There’s no place for me anymore/Major Tom/Major Tom/Just closed the door.” In the abrasive “Dig A Hole,” Chester’s angelic voice is electronically treated with a serrated edge as he suspects, or possibly finds evidence that his lover is cheating on him. In a trippy evocation of paranoia, it peaks with backward-tracked electronic sounds and an Eastern melody as he repeatedly chants, “Don’t lose your mind.” “Life” is like a bridge, melodically flat, but filled with inventive sonic details to hold it up until you get to the next mountain peak of “The Boy I Used to Be.” With a marching beat, ascending strings and a gospel-ish chorus, it’s an amazing, defiant tune, determined to not let the failed relationship be an excuse to fail in life. Then the sounds get really crazy, with slashing, prog rock guitars egging the strings and synths into a frenzy that evokes the climactic broom scene in Fantasia. It might be overblown, but its wrapped up neatly with a piano led coda, making it one of the year’s most successfully ambitious tracks. “Some Chemicals” is one of the more pastoral sounding tunes about scoring drugs.
Lush acoustic guitars augment the downer lyrics of “Crystal Clear” (referencing The Beatles with “Don’t wanna be a star/Don’t wanna drive that car…Soon she will laugh at me…”) and the obsessive “Over You” which repeats “I just, Can’t get/Over you…I need you/So bad/So bad.” The album makes one last genre-sweeping, grandiose gesture with the 9+ minute “Pulling Myself Together.” It starts with nearly sunny acoustic guitars, whips out an impressive avant-garde piano solo that rivals Mike Garson’s on “Aladdin Sane,” careens into a drum ‘n’ bass inspired videogame fight sequence, and settles down into a syncopated outro with some Flamenco-inspired gypsy guitar. By now listeners will have gathered that there are no attention-grabbing, catchy singles to be found here. My Computer avoid the spotlight so they can explore how to express the themes and emotions, unfettered by genre boundaries. No CV is inevitably a very adult album, dealing not only with heartache but violence and depression. Yet it’s ultimately an uplifting experience, balancing the flashes of ugly rage with breath-taking melodic beauty and dizzying experimentation. As with the best art rock, what more can you ask for?
