Portishead Album: “Third”

...I've waited a good solid week of listening to the new Portishead "Third" before diving into the review. That's to say, its been almost a non-stop solid listen for me...while I'm finding it be a rather difficult task to eject from the CD player...hasn't been since the release of Radiohead's "Kida" that I've found anything quite as artistically embracing and sensually orgasmic as "Third."

Nah! "Third" is no "Dummy" nor it is a replication of the self-titled release...this is a band that is too intellect to do the same thing twice and too far removed from the media to give a toss, as admitted by Geoff Barrow in a recent SG interview. For those who were expecting a "dance" album--toss that one out!!!

No, Portishead is not a dance-music making band! As "Dummy" might have helped to define "trip-hop"--it had its gleeful soulful moments, enriched with periodically sampling. Happy music?!? When has Portishead ever put out a bouncy Celion Dion whimsy of inspirational "white" fluff for the masses?

But, it's not all about the gloom on "Third," as the seductive-pulp sounding ballad "Hunter" sedates the listener with the lines: "...and if should fall will you hold me? Will you pass me?"--a brilliant love song. Likewise, "Nylon Smile" carries on writing the same sweet-heart letter that cries: "I don't know what I've done to deserve you/and don't know what I'll do without you..." "The Rip" on the other hand is a rather vibrant colorful mellow humming, creating a visual sensation like staring into a kaleidescope and slowly turning the dial as the tempo gradually glides into a colorful rose-pedal of colors--perhaps the most "upbeat" blissful moment of the album.

"Third" is by far the most studio-experimental release that Portishead has created YET. "Machine Gun" splices two electronic drums together, creating a fired-ammunition trigger-happy effect. "Plastic" is a hard-grinding mix, recalling the claustrophobic thump of "Elysium, with a choppier, looser feel with its quick surged-cuts. "Silence" is fast-drive raid of panic nightmare rage--the song is cut just before it fades (classic!).

Removing themselves from the electronica dark-wave feel of the previous two studio albums, on "Third," the band introduces its first few acoustic guitar intros on "the Rip" and "Small," while "Deep Water" stands naked of any electronic effects with its barber-shop croon.

Both "Small" and "Threads" are the climax gems of "Third." "Small" begins as an angelic melody layered with Beth Gibbon's ethereal ice-breaking vocals which suddenly morphs into a spiraling swerve of galactic swaying guitars and early Pink-Floyd-like thumping organs. "Threads" is the most haunting of any of delicate delights featured on this 49 minute-long orgasm with its droning hallow-sound guitar riff accompanied with the constant high-pitch "squeal" in the back ground, induced by the chill of hypno-voodoo beats--producing a entangling effect of euphoria. The song ends like a heavy moan of a Tibetan chant and slowly fades--what a brilliant place for the last song!

No, "Third" is not a dance album, it's not another "Dummy," nor it is all "happy"--it's the avante-garde masterpiece of the 2000's. On "Third" Portishead is solid proof that the band is less about producing music and more about creating the art. Ten years was well worth the wait for this magnificent stereophonic high!

I really love this new portishead. I am kind of glad that it took them more than 10 years to put out this album. If it were to come out any earlier, I would probably hated it simply because its not trip hop. You know that sound: hip hop beats, lush/cinematic string arrangement, turntable scratches, old film score samples. That was the sound that most people love but that sound have reached it peak in 1998. This is now, portishead have moved on and they offer something new that is really good. Its not a difficult album at all if you give it a listen. The album is melodic, beth still have a great voice and some songs I find a certain groove to them. The album is dark but its catchy. They are still an interesting band. Leave trip hop back in '98 and enjoy portishead now.

Short version: if you wanted "Dummy II" then just skip this release.

Third moves Portishead in a more mechanical and industrial direction. The songs are distinctly more edgy, tight, and thoroughly claustrophobic with repetition. I see this as a good thing, your mileage may vary. Sure it may be more dissonant but it's a poppy, "In Rainbows" kind of dissonance. (As opposed to the more difficult "free jazz" dissonance. That stuff _really_ burns while going down.)

Portishead have always made cinematic music and Third is no different. Songs like "Silence" and "Nylon Smile" would feel right at home in a David Lynch dream sequence; both take advantage of stylistic reptition to feature a nice anti-climax / pull-out that leaves the listener (insert your fetish here).

Repitition seems to be the theme of Third. "The Rip", for example, opens with a banjo-fied riff that fuels the quiet desperation beneath Beth Gibbons' vocals. The same three notes are repeated throughout, building and building the song to.. the same three notes, echoed on a keyboard. The song is a brilliant study in dynamics and it's not until the last 45 seconds that a melodic counterpoint is established. The sensation is that of being able to finally scratch an itch after hours and hours of being tied to a butterfly swing. Ah, sweet relief!

Some experiments do fall flat, however. "Deep Water" begins with a ukelele and you're practically falling over yourself to hear Stephin Merritt crooning. But instead you're treated to what sounds like Darth Vader on backing vocals. "Machine Gun", meanwhile, sounds like a NIN collaboration (I see this as a bad thing, your mileage may vary) that leads to one of those cheesy arena rock moment when you wave a lighter in the air.

If Dummy was a great CD, then Third is merely good. Quite frankly, I'm mystified by the reviewers are dismissing Third as discomfiting and dark. Uh, wasn't that the whole point of Portishead? No, you're not going to listen to is at the beach. You're not going to listen to it on the way to work (unless you really hate your job). Heck, you may not listen to it more than three times a month. Nevertheless, I remain confident that there will be days when Third will perfectly fit my mood.

I won't lie to you. This album isn't going to be everybody's cup of tea. There is a *lot* going on here, and if you prefer your music to be simple and straight-forward, it will seem like an impenetrable mush to you. But for those who enjoy complex music, this is a joy to the ears, with there always being something new to pull out of the mix.

As for the music itself, it's hard to describe. Best way I can describe it is "creepy industrial electronica shoe-gazer dance emo". Except it's not. What it is... well, it's Portishead (shrug).

Popular music thrives on melodrama, especially when it's expressed by a vocalist like Beth Gibbons. The stylized, hyper-magnified fragility of her performances is the biggest strength of Portishead's Third. In "Nylon Smile," she pleads, "I don't know what I've done to deserve you, and I don't know what I'll do without you," and her voice veritably quivers with hurt, you can easily imagine her as a poor wounded bird, plaintively lamenting her cruel fate. In many songs, she dwells with similar helplessness and sensitivity on feelings like, "hoping I might change a little, hoping that I might be someone I want to be," "tormented inside life, wounded and afraid," and "I'm just emotionally undone, I can't deny I can't be someone else."

That's the predominant tone of Third, but Gibbons also does a magnificently calm, distanced tone in "Machine Gun," and becomes a bit warmer in "Deep Water" and "The Rip." Eventually, the melodrama feels more like the style of an old silent film, or a story by Stefan Zweig, than like typical nineties-style angst. Gibbons' vocal style has

recalled old torch songs, and she has lost none of her touch in the eleven years that passed since the

Portishead album. If anything, she's spookier, more mysterious now.

However, the music on Third is obsessively, insistently rudimentary, even for a minimalist decade like the 2000s. It's not "repetitive" in the sense that, say,

are repetitive. Third is full of surprises and changes: the abrupt ending of "Silence," a fast keyboard line suddenly interrupting the slow pace of "Hunter," a loud crescendo in "Small," glitchy effects in "Plastic." But these surprises have no musical content whatsoever. The keyboard line in "Hunter" plays a very simple scale, up and down; the crescendo in "Small" is a one-note keyboard line. Many songs prominently feature a shrill drone -- not a "droning keyboard line," as one might write about a post-punk album, but a plain, unadorned beeping sound, either continuous or repeated. "Silence" begins with one (around 0:30). So does "Magic Doors." So does "We Carry On." These are not small, insignificant details; they actually form the musical core of the album. Things get a little more exciting with the rare appearance of a distorted electric guitar, at the end of "Silence" and "Small," but there, too, it plays basic chords, covered in reverb.

The issue is laid out starkly in "Machine Gun." The drum track is lifted from New Order's "

." Okay, fine: steal from the best, everything old is new again, and so on. But New Order's song had about a dozen different unforgettable hooks apart from the drum track. "Machine Gun" not only has no other hooks, it has no other music, except for a short keyboard line (heavily reminiscent of nineties

) in the end. But for most of its duration, Gibbons sings over just this drum track. To add variation, they produce the drum track in two ways -- a cold "industrial" sound and a louder, clanging pot-beating sound. They alternate. The end. If not for the striking, cold clarity of Gibbons' voice, there would be nothing to discuss.

Not that it's all bad, but the good parts generally occur when the music doesn't try to call attention to itself, and retreats into the background ("Hunter," "Threads," "Deep Water"). Occasionally it is used to sort of gently guide the tone of Gibbons' vocal performance. The best such moment is on "The Rip," perhaps the best song on the album, where a slight increase in tempo leads to a warm, dreamy climax. When the music is at the forefront, however, it can be quite frustrating to listen to.

This style can be traced back to Radiohead's

, particularly "The National Anthem," which also simulated musical techniques using essentially non-musical stand-in sounds. Occasionally there are hints of Bjork's

(the drum track in "Plastic" would have felt at home there), except without the pop moments. Overall, though, the sound of Third is closer to

, another musical simulacrum, featuring a wide array of instruments (diligently noted by reviewers) that failed to play anything of any interest at all.

The minimalism of Third is anticlimactic. Exactly like Kid A, the careful pace and the jarring sound suggest an album that requires careful attention and repeated listening, but in the end, the music reveals much less than it promises. It remains to listen to Third for Gibbons' often-amazing vocals, and treat the music as an occasionally pleasant backdrop.