Joe
Jackson
POP
Harmony
For People Out of Tune With Life
By JON PARELES
April 16, 2003
The New York Times
If Joe Jackson
had been born a few decades earlier, he would have been writing show
tunes. He's constantly imagining characters and situations, letting
narrators tell their stories on the way to an ardent chorus while slipping
musical games behind the melodies. Luckily, Mr. Jackson grew up in the
punk-rock era, and with the new-wave band he formed 25 years ago he
cut away pop sentimentality and revved up the beat. He made three albums
with that band from 1978 to 1980, and he has reunited with them to make
the new ''Volume 4'' (Restless/Rykodisc) and to tour.
They played three
sold-out New York City shows over the weekend, ending up Sunday night
at the Bowery Ballroom. They are as nervy and tightly wound as ever.
Elvis Costello, Mr. Jackson's contemporary, was revitalized by rejoining
his old bandmen, and so is Mr. Jackson. ''No one ever thought that we'd
reform,'' Mr. Jackson exulted. ''Somebody said that -- I think it was
me.''
The gap between
the band's old and new songs was narrow. Mr. Jackson has always sung
about also-rans and second-raters like the unwanted suitor in ''Is She
Really Going Out With Him?'' or the harried worker in ''Got the Time,''
and he's still observing frustrated characters like the grown-up who
never outgrew his ''Awkward Age'' or the separating couple in ''Bright
Grey.''
The band still
applies a ruthless economy to the arrangements, but it revels in variety.
It floated Gary Sanford's guitar chords against Dave Houghton's quietly
ticking drums in ''Chrome'' and had Graham Maby on bass set a reggae
riff against Mr. Jackson's quasi-Baroque piano in ''Take It Like a Man.''
Mr. Jackson is still calling for musical twists like the wah-wah funk
of ''Fairy Dust,'' which is in 5/4 time.
Since 1980 Mr.
Jackson's songs have grown slightly less cynical and far more sympathetic
to women. And at a time when new- wave rock is being rediscovered by
young bands, Mr. Jackson and the band aren't shy about deliberately
recreating styles like the glam-rock of ''Little Bit Stupid.''
But their best
revival is the unbridled attack of the band: the pithy and exact arrangements
that still make room for Gary Sanford's tremolo frenzies in ''Got the
Time'' or a deliberately dissonant line after Mr. Jackson sings ''play
guitar'' in ''Sunday Papers.'' Mr. Jackson's many projects since 1980
-- his keyboard-centered hit album ''Night and Day'' in 1982, his extended
compositions -- had the sophistication but not the bite of his first
band. Like his fans, he seems to have missed it, too.