With its aptly titled third release, “Third,” Portishead, once trip-hop troubadours, is now diving into new sounds and surfacing out of breath and empty-handed.
The band’s old style of antique jazz, psychedelic hip-hop and ominous vocals used to fit any situation – parties, studying, conversing or just plain careful listening. Now they sound like a hurried hybrid of Radiohead and Björk, all sense of direction and inspiration thrown to the wind.
Most noticeable about the record is the complete absence of their trademark trip-hop bravado. The tempo of the album as a whole is sped up and the timbre is uncomfortably metallic. Songs seem like rushed, glued together pieces that the group just had lying around the studio. What starts out being a decent track is interrupted by annoying “clicks” and “pops,” over-distorted guitars or nonsense vocal breaks.
There are now dissonant and warbling synth lines where the grainy, nostalgic jazz hits used to be. The laid-back and swung drum lines are now replaced with what could have possibly come out of a $50 drum machine. The talented and cunning DJ scratches are nowhere to be found.
“Hunter” and “Plastic” are all that remain of the original Portishead, yet the songs feel like long-forgotten memories. “Plastic” starts strong, but continues to jump haphazardly into a jerky chorus, confusing the listener. “Hunter” is full of sappy lyrics, too much reverb and too little rhythm.
“Deep Water” is a comical interlude, combining banjo, Beth Gibbons’ vocals and a chorus of robots, followed by the harsh pounding of “Machine Gun.” Where there used to be an “organic” feeling to Portishead’s pieces, “Machine Gun” murders that idea. Overly distorted beats slam over the voice, rendering the words unimportant. Only when the song is half over is the listener treated to any sort of melody, and even then it haphazardly comes and goes.
The irony of the situation is that Portishead had more 10 years to craft this album and it still sounds desperately lost. Ten years is a long time, though, and many things such as tastes, inspirations and directions can change over that expanse.
There are only a few redeeming qualities to the album. Gibbons’ voice is still haunting as it quivers over the sometimes mellow, sometimes harsh backdrop. Jazz chord structures are thrown here and there, but nothing to the extent of their previous work.
For a band that has been in hibernation for such a long time, Portishead emerged as a stranger to its former self and strangers to its fans.
“Third” will be out April 29 on Mercury Records.
Chad Rutan can be reached at [email protected].
