Caroline Sullivan
Even after their four million-selling debut, Garbage’s second album was never going to rouse panting anticipation. The reason is neatly encapsulated in the understated title, Version 2.0. Derived from computer software, it mumbles “very dull”. In spite of the presence of Nirvana producer Butch Vig (drums, effects) and the pin-sharp Shirley Manson (vocals), the Anglo- American foursome come across as arid backroom geeks. It’s all too easy to imagine them sequestered in their studio in Wisconsin, dithering for weeks over one keyboard note.
But there’s a sickly fascination to the music that draws you in despite your reservations. All that tedious studio tinkering has, through some mysterious process, produced something so voluptuous and unhealthy it should be illegal.
It’s hard to capture its appeal in words; the adjectives “narcotic” and “sinister” come to mind, but that could just as easily describe The Spice Girls. Some synthesis of electronica, melody and Manson endows it with the hypnotic allure of late- night TV: it’s trashy and bad for you, but holds you stupefied. The familiar elements – the multiple layers of keyboards and guitars, pured to sound velvety deep, and Manson’s frigid, imperious voice – are in place.
But it’s their genius for great hooks that justifies Garbage’s existence. Without the catchiness that makes it impossible to not bark along, they would be just another wilfully weird indie band. But a group who can turn out choruses as if they were Hanson has significant power.
Garbage don’t squander it. Nearly every song is a radio-friendly bad dream, the kind that deposits you in the middle of a perfumed maze with no way out. Pretty good for three-minute pop tunes. There are few bummers here; even less gripping moments like Hammering in My Head, built on 100 loops, are elevated by the greatness of, say, Temptation Waits (whose fairground organ was a fine idea) and I Think I’m Paranoid.
Manson is the perfect bitch-goddess, her voice synthetically compressed to a thin rasp yet still the queen of all it surveys. She’s not a woman to be trifled with: “I was angry when I met you/I think I’m angry still,” she purrs on Push It (where a strangely sweet sampled phrase hovers in the mix – this purloining of the Beach Boys chorus, “Don’t worry baby”, was approved by Brian Wilson himself). Less emotionally self- destructive than on the first album, Manson nonetheless still sees herself as “A masochistic lamb to the slaughter” (see Dumb). But the real point is that she’s a singular character in a group that, despite itself, makes singular music.
n Five lucky Friday readers can each win a free copy of Garbage’s new CD, as well as a Garbage mousepad, courtesy of BMG. All you have to do is answer the simple question below, and send it with your name and address to M&G, PO Box 32362, Braamfontein, 2017, or fax to (011) 403-1025, or e-mail [email protected], clearly marking all such correspondence “Garbage giveaway”. Do not send more than one entry. Submissions must reach us by June 8; the winners will be announced on June 12.
Question: Name a song off Garbage’s new album.