Not Many Experts

The trusty BBC say in the opening salvo on the seven-years-in-the-making “Heligoland” that:

“While an army of griping fans and sniping critics will argue that Heligoland doesn’t match their early triumphs, or break as much new ground, there will be younger listeners who hear it as something entirely new and recognise it for the gloomily, beguiling beauty it is.”

And so, seeing as my knowledge of Massive Attack doesn’t extend beyond a few fleeting moments of “Teardrops” that my parents used to play from time to time, I genuinely feel quite privileged that I’m so ignorant to Massive Attack’s past that I can approach “Heligoland” almost entirely objectively, with little or no expectations, and so appreciate it for the sparsely alluring record that it is.

Massive Attack’s influences, or, so I am told, those who have been influenced by Massive Attack, emanate from every other song. TV On The Radio, Burial, Radiohead and Portishead are all obvious reference points, but “Heligoland” is so expertly spun out that it doesn’t come close to sounding like a diverse collection of plagiarisms. Instead, it rings of a subtly original and carefully pieced together album; very much a proper record that was meant to be heard as a whole.

In fact, though I gather that “Heligoland” does little to break away from Massive Attack’s back catalogue, its gaunt mix of shadowy beats and casual lyrics effortlessly capture the paranoid spirit of today. From small beat pioneers to the dubby zeitgeist of murky modern day life; Massive Attack have stopped short of breathless originality, but “Heligoland” remains an enormous, funereal achievement that should be appreciated without any unrealistic expectations.