Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 25/02/08
Label: Mute

The rumours were that Goldfrapp had "gone folk". Apparently the horse's tail was back in the wardrobe and mandolins and cheesecloth smocks were now order of the day. Influences such as Sylvester, T.Rex and Abba had been dropped in favour of "The Wicker Man", owls and the sort of cider that comes in barrels under the bar counter. "Hey nonny nonny, NO!", you can imagine a good proportion of her fanbase screaming.

As it is, the rumours are half-right. It's tempting to view "Seventh Tree" as some sort of sequel to "Felt Mountain", or at least a red herring to the legion of copyists who have appropriated Alison Goldfrapp's sex glam disco template over the past few years (and that's pretty much every female in pop, from Rachel Stevens and Kylie right through to the Queen Bee herself, Madonna).

Of course, Goldfrapp is not the only former trip hop siren to travel down this particular country lane. Beth Gibbons' criminally underrated Rustin Man project tapped into the spirit of Anne Briggs, Fairport Convention and "Tess Of The d'Urbervilles". If things run to plan, maybe we'll see Madge take her "Horse & Hound" fantasies to their obvious conclusion with a 21-date residency at Cecil Sharp House complete with Guy Ritchie as a murderous Morris dancer.

What "Seventh Tree" actually does - successfully - is tap into a very English spirit of eccentricity, taking the mellow floatiness of Goldfrapp's earliest work and imbuing it with a dash of Hammer horror and the aroma of country meadows. This is a seductive formula from the off, an opening salvo of "Clowns" and "Little Bird" evoking a beautiful spring morning in the Cotswolds. The former is underpinned by birdsong and the sort of luscious strings John Barry might have buttered onto a late '60s spy movie. The latter is all music box prettiness, combusting into a starburst of pearly dewdrops and frou-frou foxes, conjuring comparisons to The Cocteau Twins.

Nonsensical splendour continues apace. "How do you get to be happiness" runs the infectious chorus to "Happiness", not unreasonably. It's somehow Beatles-esque, although not in the useless clodding manner of Britpop. "Eat Yourself" also taps into the Lear-ish mode of Lennon. Elsewhere, the more distinct and direct tones of "A&E" represent, arguably, the least representative moments of the whole body of work, although that track in particular gets better with every listen.

It marks a second half charge to the finish that suddenly blossoms, encompassing diversions into Serge Gainsbourg territory ("Cologne Cerrone Houdini") and electro pop ("Caravan Girl") before the set piece curtain closer of "Monster Love". Late adopters will be on more familiar ground here; and though "Seventh Tree" is not the best 'weird folk' album of the past 12 months (that honours surely belongs to Mercury Prize winner in waiting Rachel Unthank & The Winterset) "Seventh Tree" marks convincing evidence that Alison Goldfrapp now exists on the same artistic plane as PJ Harvey or Kate Bush.

    by Adam Webb