Bret Easton Ellis' second novel was very much of the '80s, but one of the many clever things Roger Avary's done with his pulsing movie adaptation is to catch the feel of that decade's music without slavishly nuzzling obvious nostalgia trends. The underlying score, by indie-flick stalwarts tomandandy (sic), is both inventive and unsettling. Around it are layered songs of a chic, shiny kind of darkness, borrowed from various eras: tone and temperature are more important here than timeliness.
If you can remember the '90s, you have mediocre taste in music. Subtitled "The Best Of Britpop", this double CD ties in with the John Dower documentary about that media-stoked mirage, Cool Britannia. As Blair morphs into Thatcher and everyone wonders what they saw in the Gallaghers, it's not a fruitful time to hear this listless stodge. The track listing prompts an inner sigh—Cast, Shed Seven, the supremely flaccid Embrace. No wonder it was piss-easy for The Strokes to clean up with three Blondie riffs.
Twelve-year chronicle of demos and live cuts from '90s keepers of pop flame
In an ideal world, Blondie would have existed only on video. The golden Deborah, adored by the camera, would now live forever as a shimmering punk siren, blessed with a voice of both honey and crystalline clarity. Harry fronts Blondie at their 1983 farewell concert in Toronto uncomfortably, inelegantly, and sings without any of the vitality of the sassy little Kittens whose success has prompted this release.
