Hopes, it's fair to say, were high. After 'Mambo No 5''s heroic trouncing of yet another pallid slab of French filtered house (by Supermen Lovers, in case you've forgotten their name already), it seemed as if Britain had finally produced its own Latino/DIY crossover superstar. Bob, of course, presented a heady blend of exotic rhythms and building analogies in puppet-based form. How could he fail?
Well, bloody hell, check this out. Those of us expecting a 12-track orgy of Homebase sambas stand exasperated by 'Bob The Builder'. As 'No One Can Dig It' proves, Bob is a master of carnival flavours that come disguised in staunch workingman drag. For the rest of the album, however, he falls prey to a number of pitfalls that've bedevilled debuts since time immemorial. Where to begin? The desperate attempts to be fashionable, perhaps, that leave about half the tracks sounding like superannuated big beat. Cooler than Bentley Rhythm Ace, obviously, but it's a close thing.
Or how about the even more desperate attempts for wide appeal, that compels the soft git to make two stabs at music's least plausible excuse for a good time, line-dancing? There are well-meaning chances for his mates to have a turn in the spotlight notably Scarecrow's execrable 'What Can I Be' that result in the worst adverts for rock democracy since the last Belle & Sebastian album. And, finally and most heinous, there's the seduction by big new pop star mates hence Elton John being wheeled out for 'Crocodile Rock'.
At least 'Bob The Builder' will sell more than Elton's allegedly 'serious' new album. Nevertheless, for all of Bob's fans out of pre-school (chiefly skiving freelance journalists), it's all terribly disappointing. DJs should note, though, that it sounds strangely appealing when juxtaposed with the new Leonard Cohen LP. Now that'd be a proper collaboration…
