Review Summary: A letdown for every friend of the Frenchman's music, characterized by endless repetition and tiresome pseudo-rock.
While many guys on Sputnik almost seem to have listened to prog rock, heavy metal or old school hip-hop even back in the days when they still needed a fresh diaper every day, my musical upbringing was entirely different. Besides Green Day, Offspring and Linkin Park roaring out of my brother's room and me getting introduced to Rammstein at a not exactly advisable age, I was your casual musically uninterested kid. And one of my oh so caring siblings had the thought, he probably should do something about that, which led to me getting my first non-kids record, Manu Chao's
"Clandestino". Apart from the fact that the ability to understand Spanish isn't something written in an Austrian kid's DNA, the unbelievably likeable guy behind that name stayed with me nonetheless. So there I was, almost a decade later, buying his latest LP
"La Radiolina", jamming it endlessly to the point where everyone in my family was annoyed by it, still being as easy to impress as always. Oh, how time changes things.
Cause nowadays I don't see a musical evergreen anymore, there's not much in sight that would justify congratulating Chao for his 2008 release. Much more you find an endless conglomerate of the same ideas recycled over and over and over again, up to the point where you almost capitulate before the last of these 50 minutes is over. But just as it should be with recycling in the beginning there's still the unused original product, showcasing Chao's great talent and being an excellent reminder of his earlier work, solo and with Mano Negra. The latter one isn't to apparent one though, since
"La Radiolina" marks another step towards sunny pop and away from the melancholic latin-folk his debut offered. Opener
13 Dias is rather an actual rock song, successfully combining country and latin influences, with its energetic approach harkening back to the earlier days of his career in the beginning 90's. This makes for an entertaining start, definitely marking one of his best works by now.
Unfortunately Chao sets the bar quite high with those minutes, too high as it seems. At first he still manages to present solid, if not at times really brilliant work without many slips.
Tristeza Maleza is yet another up-beat track, being driven rather by its jangly riff and a damn catchy chorus, later supported by some nice trumpets mixed in. The duo
Politik Kills and
Rainin' In Paradize on the other hand display his overtly political message, both being more aggressive in tone, addressing such issues as warmongering, poverty and anti-democratic structures, mostly in the planet's poorer regions. Though, while there's no denial Chao always focused on those problems, his most obvious critical tracks tend to suffer from their tensed atmosphere, perfectly demonstrated here. While they are welcome and worthwhile additions to an otherwise disappointing record, you still get the impression that a more playful approach - at best in the vein of predecessor
"Proxima Estacion: Esperanza" - could have helped.
Or you do what he does on
Me Llaman Calle, abandoning the rock-oriented style of the album's first songs and creating pretty much the only minutes that could have gotten a place on his debut. It's a more organic sound, characterized first and foremost by its prominent use of salsa rhythms and instrumentation, all in all representing the relaxed side of the Frenchman. It's pretty much the last sign of vitality on this album and only one third lies behind us. Subsequently
"La Radiolina" slowly disintegrates more and more, with a second half that is almost entirely made up of reused melodies and instrumentation of the first songs.
The Bleeding Clown is one of the earlier examples, recycling the basic sound and structure of Tristeza Maleza, transforming it into a lukewarm melancholic love song, which offers hardly anything besides a rather unpleasant almost-hard rock sound.
Yet, we're still on the better side, since songs like
A Cosa,
Mala Fama or
La Vida Tombola are nothing but boring, uninteresting pieces that don't manage to build up any atmosphere at all. Actually they're rather putting you to sleep with their mix of latin and Italian folk, especially if you don't understand what he's singing about, no matter if the lyrics are Italian or Spanish. As unjustified as criticism might seem without direct knowledge of the songs lyrics, his past work is already the perfect example why this isn't necessarily a problem. The songs on
"Clandestino" were all vital, sometimes on the funny side, sometimes rather melancholic, but even with just the vaguest idea of what he's talking about, there undeniably was emotion in them. Exactly that's what missing most of the time now, leaving his music behind to die in the fight for entertaining minutes.
Occasionally this works to some extent,
El Hoyo and
Panik Panik being pretty much the only examples in the album's second half. What ties almost every single one of those worthwhile moments together is their up-beat nature, their lively sound and at least a little bit of the quirkiness
"Proxima Estacion" was hailed for. It's a shame that all this gets undermined big time by the endless repetition of his melodies - there are only about two unique tracks, everything else is used at least twice regarding either structure or instrumentation - and in consequence a bloated track list, featuring as many as 21 songs. Though the term 'songs' is maybe a little overstatement for some, considering nine of them don't reach the two-minute mark, rendering the reproduction of the same songs even more pointless.
What's left is a guy that's still as likeable as ever, he just lost momentum, falling short of his previous releases and therefore making
"La Radiolina" to a disappointing listen. Most likely it would be anyway, no matter if there were material to compare it with or not. Looking at it one can see the hidden or rather wasted potential. It is hiding in all those energetic moments that really display progress and vitality; it is overshadowed by even more tired and tiring performances, best described as a lack of imagination and ideas. Maybe it's the long gap of six years that lead to the release of this CD, packed with too many throwaway minutes and too little worthy additions to his discography. Whatever the reason was,
"La Radiolina" is without any doubt an all-time low for the French globetrotter.
Recommended tracks:
13 Dias
Tristeza Maleza
Me Llaman Calle
