In time, the relationship between a musician and his audience becomes something of a friendship, albeit a little one-sided. And while we take comfort in familiarity, it is always nice to discover something new about your friend, such as a side that you never knew. It helps keep things fresh.
With Further Complications, Jarvis Cocker's sophomore solo album, two sides of the musician are in evidence—one new and one old. It is a work of contrasting elements. He discovers the howling electric guitar side of his personality, yet he does not entirely abandon his signature breathy delivery. In fact, his penchant for critical—at times pessimistic—assessments of the world around him, his play on words, and his fondness for stylized interpretations of music genres are all present on the album. He just screams a lot more.
The album makes a raucous start with its title track, “Further Complications,” a song that rails against the proverbial excess baggage that proves unavoidable over a lifetime. An ominous, cyclical guitar lick spins like a helicopter blade, propelled forward by a driving beat. With a degree of adolescent angst, he warns, “Further complications in store, yeah / Your life just a carrier bag / Oh they'll fill it, and the straps will snap.” Cocker's vocals continue on their upward trajectory until the song breaks down into an ever-slowing chant, almost mirroring the arc of life and death.
That duality can be seen thoughout Further Complications. In fact, much of the album can be seen as opposing sides of a coin.
“Caucasian Blues” features a bellowing vocal performance that crosses Pete Shelley with John Lydon served atop a frenetic smorgasbord of musical notes; on the other hand, “Hold Still,” a song about a dissolving relationship, almost whispers its yearning. “'Hold still,' I told you, but you moved / Now you're gone I can't find you growing.”
In “Angela,” a fawning ode that climaxes with the clever double entendre: “I feel the sap rising tonight (Angela) / A dry stick at the end of a branch.” The fuzzy guitars add a muckiness to the incessant chanting of the girl's name; alternatively, “Fuckingsong” features a similar fuzzinesss that, this time, detracts from the song as it devolves into the foot-stomping pout of a petulant child, rather than the frustrated anger of a man railing against an unrequited love.
Then there's “Homewrecker,” an unfortunate song that features the shriek—at least that's what it feels like—of a saxophone and feels like a mix between the old Batman and Saturday Night Live theme songs. Why the sax? It wasn't a good idea back in the ’70s; what makes anyone think it would work in the naughts?
But on the other hand, “Slush” is a sublime and controlled effort that incorporates Cocker's baritone voice with a barreling cacophony of drums that results in an ascending song about the fragility of love.
Taken as a whole, the album's hits and hiccups add up to a record of an artist unwilling to settle for the achievements of his last success. What we hear is an artist taking chances, and that is seldom a bad thing. Better to aim high and come up a little short on occasion than make five albums playing the same three chords nine different ways. In the end, Jarvis Cocker's willingness to consistently experiment with sounds and styles makes Further Complicationsan album that fights back just enough to make it worth your time.
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