CD of the week
Caroline Sullivan
Until Catatonia came along – or until their breakthrough second album, International Velvet, did – few realised British rock had a niche shaped just like them. Now that they’ve filled it, the question seems obvious: how did pop get by without a Cerys Matthews?
Catatonia’s singer and co-lyricist is a wenchly extrovert with the common touch, yet she presides over audiences with calm majesty. Best of all, her voice sounds like no one else’s.
With International Velvet approaching a million sales and the new album, Equally Cursed and Blessed (Blanco y Negro/ Gallo) certain to follow it to hit status, Catatonia are in line to become one of the leading British bands of Y2K.
That’s British, rather than Welsh. If on International Velvet Matthews thanked the Lord she’s Welsh, Equally Cursed and Blessed is over it. Those extravagant vowels may still embellish each song, ripe and impossible to imitate, but the music has its sights set on the rest of the world.
The handful of ballads, especially Nothing Hurts, reveals an all-enveloping delicacy, while Storm the Palace frothily marches on Buckingham Palace, demanding its incumbents “turn it into flats”. The jiggly, disjointed She’s a Millionaire is a polite rant against the “beautiful” people.
Dead from the Waist Down’s tranquil violins will be most people’s way into this album; the chorus “Make hay, not war” already threatens to become a catchphrase. Beyond that, there’s a world of delights, Welshly and worldly.