Frank Black
Fast Man, Raider Man
Cooking Vinyl/Shock


I think I could probably fill up this entire two-page spread with thoughts about the music of Frank Black. In case you've missed the boat, Frank Black was previously known as Black Francis when he was in the most important band since The Beatles, The Pixies. Remember that name kids, they rocked, they ruled, they inspired Nirvana and countless others. However, unlike Kurt Cobain, Frank Black has continued on well past the peak of his career, which makes his subsequent releases an uneasy affair. It's like being a Morrisey fan since the magical chemistry of The Smiths ended, now having the fans asking themselves "To what degree will this album be a disappointment?" I know that might sound harsh, but once you've written albums with such thorough brilliance as 'Doolittle' and 'Bossanova' how can one person possibly live up to such gargantuan expectation? Then to top it off Mr. Black goes and gives us a double album, 27 freaking tracks. You think he couldn't prune the album by himself, but no, he's put the onus on the listener.

If someone had played me the lacklustre country ditty Dirty Old Town and suggested that it was by an artist I highly respected I'd have laughed at them (the vocals don't even sound like Frank Black), but when an album contains plenty of uninspiring country and blues songs like this you can't help but cringe. There are moments like Johnny Barleycorn which appear to retain some of the urgency and likeable melodies of 'Teenager Of The Year', but then guitar and saxophone solo just scream middle-of-the-road humdrum. The second disc opens with In The Time Of My Ruin and for a few moments Frank Black seems alive again, but any faint hopes are slowly destroyed over the next few songs. My Terrible Ways sounds like Frank Black's voice is on its last legs; I really don't understand why he would want to release something which clearly lets his voice sound weak and wavering.

Despite much of this album's lyrics being rich in religious imagery, no number of prayers can save 'Fast Man, Raider Man' from being a resounding disappointment.

Scott Berry