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St Etienne
Tales From Turnpike House
Sanctuary
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Article
written by James G
Jun 5, 2005.
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‘Tales From Turnpike House’, is a superb album. How do I know? Because I can’t make up my mind which track I like best, even after the 10th listen. Whether it’s the opener, ‘Sun In My Morning’, a pastoral, relaxed, flute-ridden number that brings Spanish verandas to mind, rather than the outset of a 24hr period in a London tower block (the concept, apparently, of the whole album). It’s a song for all the eurosceptics out there…’Made a list of all the things to do today/what a shame the morning rays/just blew it all away’. What a lovely, lazy, gentle and refreshing alternative to all that thundery ‘rawk’ around.
It could be ‘Milk Bottle Symphony’, a snapshot of the community gearing up for their day ahead. ‘Unigate, Doris Brown, fridge, kettle, quilted dressing down’ are mentioned before the sound of a milk float wheeling off completes the image of an early morning in London town from every cool 60’s movie you care to mention. Maybe it’s ‘Lightning Strikes Twice’, a song that shows their maturity as songwriters after 14 years and 7 albums, and sticks a chorus in your head after one listen. ‘A Good Thing’, if performed by anyone more current, would probably be a huge hit. As it is, we’ll just have to enjoy this piece of vintage SE, and wonder why we don’t get Bob Stanley to write our Eurovision entries…
Another listen and I’m thinking it’s the current single ‘Side Streets’. “You say I live in a bubble/ I find a bubble’s best” sums up a lot of the SE approach. Nowt wrong with life in a bubble. Not when it sounds this classy. In true SE style there’s one track, ‘Last Orders For Gary Stead’ that doesn’t quite work. A footstomping, almost ‘glamrock’ number, saved only by the sweet, sweet vocals of Ms Cracknell. ‘Stars Above Us’, a cross between Spiller and Liquid Gold, is the Hi-camp, Hi-NRG, D.I.S.C.O. that SE seem to create almost effortlessly. So unfashionable it’s ridiculous. Who cares? “Let’s have some fun tonight”. Exactly.
‘Relocate’, an argument between her – Cracknell – and him – David Essex (sounding like David Bowie doing an impression of Dick Van Dyke) – is an example of that most rare thing in music – humour. It shows it can work, if understated. “You’d do your work from home/online or on the phone/I could grow vegetables/Sounds like a load of bull”. And then, as we’re nearing the end, I’m thinking it's ‘Teenage Winter’. Another piece of classic SE, what with the spoken verse spotlighting the minutiae of contemporary life, before an aching chorus. Then we arrive at the lines “Mums in pushchairs outside Sainsbury’s/ tears in their eyes/ they’ll never buy a Gibb brothers record again/ their old 45’s gathering dust/ with the birthday cards they couldn’t face throwing away.” and gulp. Despite all the light, frothy pop we’ve come to associate with them since debut album ‘Foxbase Alpha’ in 1991, there’s always been a darker, heartrending, poetic side to them, largely unrecognised.
Saint Etienne don’t exactly push back any boundaries with TFTH. And they probably won’t win too many new fans either. But it really doesn’t matter. They’re still so very good at doing what they do. Now I’ll have to listen to it again. I STILL can’t make up my mind.
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