Nothing Wrong With The Washing Machine

Listening to Aerial By Kate Bush.

I know that Sainsbury’s is not a very cool place to buy your music but I couldn’t wait any longer. Quentin Cooper actually used the track Pi from the album on The Material World to ask a question about what was creative and what wasn’t – it turns out that memorising Pi is not creative but singing it is. Consequently Aerial was purchased last night and disc 1 played until my wife reminded me of something we wanted to watch. The reviews I have read have been generally good with the Mojo one having hardly any gap between it and perfection. I have to say that the Times review misspelled the title as ‘Ariel’ all the way through which grated with kate herself on Front Row who dismissed the chiming of the title with the great Plath homophone as nothing more than coincidence. I have to add that the picture of the fishermen in the liner notes has more than an echo what with the boat being called ‘Aerial’.

As to my views of the album itself, I have only listened to all of disc 1 which means I have not yet reached Rolf Harris. I loved Hounds Of Love but the technology of the time dates that. Aerial is real and live with a spirit in the instrumentation which matches the high emotion of Kate’s voice. It is difficult now to link the howling banshee wail of the original Wuthering Heights with the measured release of emotion that comes of this album. That is not to say you won’t be tingling and teary by the end of some of it. I was worried about the mawkishness that might have prevailed in the song Bertie (for her son) but despite the simple and unconditional love that the words are designed to convey, the twin powers of that voice and the ability to orchestrate beautifully have made it something special. A well-done cliché is no problem at all. The beautiful renaissance backing (guitars – not harpsichord as one review had it) just tips it over into being brilliant.

I have heard the first couple of tracks on disc 2, and I have to say that the second gave me a “Daddy! My daddy!” moment – wonderful. More later.